THE SPY UNxHASKED.

iL^iK.'v JB y nBim.ff33a

THE.
SPY UNMASKED, OR,
MEMOIRS* OF
ENOCH CROSBY, alias HARVEY BIRCH,
THE HEBO OF MR. COOPEU's TALE OF THE •f'"-i
NEUTRAL GROUNDS
BEING AN AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT OP THE SECBET SEKVIOES
WHICH HE RENDERED HIS COUNTRY DURING
THE REVOLUTIONARY. WAR. ¦f
( Taken from his own l^ps, in short-hand.)
COMfSISINQ MANT INTERESTING FACTS AND ANECDOTES, NEVES
BEFORE PUBLISHED.
BY H. L. BARNUM.

RMBELLISHED WITH ENGRAVINGS,

Beto^^orfe :

I'BINTEDJEY JtiSp. HARPER, 82 i;UFF-&T.
oOliB BY COLIINS ANbLjI^HAT, COLLINS AND CO., AND 1VM. B. OILLEV J
CARET, LEA, AND ^^^|#IhILADELPHIA ; HILLUnD, GRAI, AND C«h,
IND BICHAEDSON aM XffiRD, BOSTON ; AND F. LOOAS, JR, BALTIMOPB,

SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, «i.
DE IT REMEMBERED, That on the lOth day of July, A. D. 1828, in
-^the fifty- third year of the Independence of the United States of America,
H. L. BARNUM, of the said District, has .deposited in this office the title
of a Book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words following,
to^^t: " The Spy Unmasked ; or, Memoirs of Enoch Crosby, alias Harvey Birch,
the Hero of Mr. Cooper's Tale of the Neutral Ground : being an authentic
account of the secret sei-vices which he rendered his country during the
Revolutionary War. Taken from his own lips, in short-hand.— Comwising
'many interesting facts and anecdotes never before published. By H. L.
Barnum." In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States, entitled " An act
for the ejicouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and
books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein
mentioned." And also to an act, entitled "An act supplementary to an act,
entitled an act for the encouragement of learning, by secnring the copies of
maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during
the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of
designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints."
FRED. J. BETTS,
Clerk of the Southern DUtrict of New-Torh;

DEDICATION.

TO JAMES F. COOPER, Esq.,
AUTHOR OP « The Spy," " Red Rover," &c.
Sir, As it was your fascinating pen that first iin-
mortahzed the subject of the following Memoir,
while it elevated the literary reputation of our
free and happy country, the Compiler has ven
tured to prefix your name to this unauthorized
dedication. ¦
Rest assured, Sir, that in taking this liberty, the
und«a:signed had no other incentive but a profound
respect for your talents as an author, and a warm
esteem for your virtues as a man.
Under the hope that the motive will justify
the act, he begs leave to subscribe himself
Your most obedient, and very
Humble servant,
H. L. BARNUM

CONTENTS.

Page
Oedicalum  5
IjUroduelion  9
Gbap. I. — Early Impressions  17
II. — Leaving Home  35
III.— The Fir^t Oaidpaign  31
IV.— The Tories  46
v. — Secret Services  52
VI.— The Spy and the Haystack  64
VII.— The Escape  76
VIII.— The Mountain Cave  86
IX.— Chaderton's Hill  93
X.— The Secret Pass  112
XI. — Lights and Shadows  126
XII.— Quaker Hill  134
XI II.— The Spy Unmasked  142
XIV.— The Spy and the Traitor  153
ConchtaUm  164
.nppendw-  16^

INTRODUCTION.

Since the first publication of Mr. Cooper's in
teresting novel of « The Spy, A Tale of The
Neutral Ground," much curiosity has been ex
cited in the reading community, respecting the
original of that excellent portraiture, Harvey
Birch. It seemed to be generally admitted, that
the Spy was not a fictitious personage, but a real
character, drawn from life ; and the author hiih-
self intimates as much in his preface, where he
admits that " a good portion of the tale is true."
But we are happy to assure the reader, that the
fact does not rest upon the slender basis of fan
ciful conjecture. A gentleman of good standing
and respectabihty, who has filled honourable
ofiicial stations in the county of Westchester,
and who has long enjoyed the friendship and
confidence of Mr. Cooper, informed the writer
of this article, on the authority of Mr. Cooper
himself, that the outline of the character of Har
vey Birch, was actually sketched from that of
Enoch Crosbt; but filled up, partly from ima
gination, and partly from similar features in the
lives of two or three others, who were also en-
-^aged in secret services, during the revolutionary
2

\ INTRODUCTION.
war. But Mr. Cooper has frequently assured our
informant, that, though he had borrowed inci.
dents from the lives of others, to complete the
portrait, yet Enoch Crosby was certainly the
original which he had in his " mind's eye."
That there were several such secret agents in
the service of the leaders of the revolution, is a
fact that is now%ell known ; a fact to which the
author alludes in the fijst chapter of " The Spy,"
where he says, " Many an individual has gone
down to the toaib stigmatized as a foe to the
rights of bis, countrymen, while, in secret^ he has
been the useful agent of the leaders of the revo
lution." Each of tjiese individuals might have
contributed a tint, a shade, a Kne, or perhaps a
feature, to the character of Harvey Birch ; bat
we think noone can peruse the following pages
without being convinced that Enoch Crosby was
the original model from which tj^at character was
formed. I:t is highly probable, however, that Mr. Cooper
never saw Crosby; and, ©f course, could not
have received the incidents of bis life from his
own lips, as did the compiler of the following'
Memoir. But the honourable John Jay, it will
be recollected, was chairman of the " Committee
of Safety," under whose sanction Crosby's secret
services were performed; and we understand,^ it..
was at Mr. Jay's residence that the novel of
" The Spy" was first conceived and brought into
existence. This venerable patriot, (better than

introduction. XI
any one else, not even excepting the secret
agents themselves.) could furnish Mr. Cooper
with every requisite material for the character of
Harvey Birch; although he was under the er
roneous impression, that Enoch Crosby had long
since paid the debt of nature.
On learning the foriegoing facts, from the gen
tleman alluded to above, the writer of this nar
rative, being then about twenty miles from the
residence of Mr. Crosby, was induced to pay him
a'Visit, for the purpose of hearing some of the
incidents of his life related by himself; but with
out the least intention of ever committing them
to paper.
Although perfect strangers to each other, th^
old gentlemg.n gave his visiter a cordial recep
tion, and readily complied with his request, by
relating several particulars of his own eventful
life. Some of these were of so interesting a
nature, as induced his auditor to suggest the pro
priety of laying them before the public. The
jaged Veteran modestly waived such a proposition^
considering the events of his life as of too little
consequence to claim attention from the patrons
of literature. He had never seen " The Spy,"
as novws were not included in his present course
^ of reading ; he was consequently ignorant of
¦^ being himself the very hero of the tale. When
* advised of this fact, and soUcited to peruse the
work, he consented; and the visiter took his
leave. >

jjjj INTRODUCTIOR.
A short time subsequent to this interview, Mr.
Crosby was called to the city of New-York, to
give his testimony in an important law-suit, re
specting the transfer of some valuable real estate.
While attending Court, in the City Hall, he was
recognised by an old gentleman, who, not having
heard of him for a number of years, supposed
(like Jay and Cooper,) that Crosby had been,
long since, numbered with the dead. After such
mutual greetings as are usual on similar occa
sions, Crosby's old acquaintance turned to the
Court, and introduced his friend as " the original
Harvey Birch of Mr, Cooper's ' Spy.'' "
This anecdote being published in some of the
daily papers, Mr. Sandford, proprietor of the La
Fayette Theatre, politely invited Mr. Crosby to
attend the representations of the drama of the
« Spy ;" which was performed expressly for that
occasion. Mr, Crosby complied; and, the cir
cumstance being announced in the papers, a nu
merous audience attended, who received the old
soldier with several rounds of applause, which
he modestly acknowledged. He appeared to be
much interested in the performance, and readily
admitted, that some of the incidents resembled
transactions in which he himself had been an
actor in " olden time," on " the Neutral Ground."
How Mr. Crosby was pleased with his recep
tion in the city, will be seen from the following'
letter, which he sent to the Editors of the "Jour-

INTRODUCTION. XUl
nal of Commerce," in which paper it appeared
on the twenty-first day of December last, 1827.
'• For the Journal of Commerce.
Messrs. Editors,
It would be an unsatisfactory restraint of my
feelings, should 1 not express my gratitude to the
citizens of New- York, for their kind attention to
me during my late visit to that city, and particu
larly to the managers of the theatre, who po
litely invited me to witness the play called the
'Spy: I was much gratified with the performance;
for, while it called to mind those trying scenes of
the revolutionary war, it also created happy
emotions in reflecting upon the glorious result of
our labours during that perilous time, which
brought with it Independence and Prosperity;
and having been spared to enjoy those blessings
for half a century, and see them still continued,
I can lay down my weary and worn-out limbs in
peace and happiness, to see my feeble labours
rewarded, and my greatest wishes answered, in
gaining^our independence, and the blessings at-
tending*^it ; and my most earnest and fervent
prayer is, and shall be, that they may be perpe
tuated to the latest posterity.
Yours, very respectfully, ENOCH CROSBY.
December 15, 1837."

XlV

INTRODUCTIONi

The writer of these pages now felt conviac^d
that the public curiosity demanded an authentic
narrative of Enoch Crosby's secret services,
during the revolutionary war. Under- this im
pression, he paid him a second visit; and, after
much persuasion, prevailed on him to relate thfe
principal incidents of his life, in the order they
occurred, while his visiter took them down, from
his lips, in short-hand. The substance of the
following pages may, therefore, be depended
upon, as facts related by Mr. Crosby himself. It
is true, the language is, in most instances, tiie
Compiler's ; but the ideas, with very few excep
tions, are Crosby's own. The language was
changed for the two following reasons : —
First, The events and incidents of Crosby's
life were related to the Compiler in the first per-
son; which would have precluded many other
facts, from various sources, which have a con
nexion with, or a bearing on, those furnished by
himself. ,By changing the stylf^^to the third per
son, the Compiler was at libfefty to interweave
several important events which can certainly de
tract nothing from the merits of the work.
Secondly, The particulars of Crosby's adven
tures, as narrated in the following pages, were
elicited in a catechetical coHoquy ; the style of
which is seldom sufiiciently accurate, or elevatec^
for the page of history. But the facts themselves*
did all actually occur, with very trifling variation.
The following work has been divided into

INTRODUCTION, X V
chapters, for the convenience of the reader, in
making references, &c. ; each of which has been
headed with a motto, in order that his patah,
as he proceeds through the narrative, might
be diversified with a few flowers of acknow
ledged sweetness. They may be " read or sung,
at the discretion of" those who honour the book
with a perusal ; or they may be passed over un
noticed; for a motto, like a parenthesis, "can
always be omitted without injuring the sense."
The work is embeUished with the following
plates :
1st. A miniature likeness of Enoch Crosby,
(or Harvey Birch,) taken fi-om life, with a fac
simile of his signature.
2d. A view of the prison, or church, where the
prisoners were confined, with the house in which
the Committee of Safety held their examinations,
or Courts of Inquiry.
3d. A view of the farm-house, which was oc
cupied by the Wharton family, after their removal
from "The Locusts;" together with the moun
tain which Frances Wharton ascended at night,
to obtain an interview with Harper, in the hut of
Harvey Birch.
4th. A view of the place where Major Andre
was taken by Paulding, Van Wort, and WiUiams,
with the surrounding scenery.
5th, A view of the house where Andre was
confined^ and tried by a court-martial.
6th. A correct Map of the " Neutral Ground."

XVI INTRODUCTION,

As these views were all taken from nature, by
the Compiler of the work, he flatters himself
that every person who has visited the spots, will
bear witness to their fidelity. t

THE SPY UNMASKED.

CHAPTER I.
early IMPRESSIONS.
Be this brief precept carefully imprest.
By every parent, on the infant breast ;
** Thy best aff^ctionij let thy God command,
But next to Heaven, adore thy native land."
Enoch Crosby, the subject of the following memoir,
is a native of Harwich, in the county of Barnstable, state
of Massachusetts.* He was born on the fourth day of
January, 1750 ; a year rendered somewhat remarkajjle
by the first indication of a wish, on the part of the British
parliament, to infringe the rights and privileges of the
American colonies, f
It would not be an unpardonable hyperbole to say, that
the adventures of Enoch Crosby commenced at the early
age of three years ; as, at that period, he left the place of
his nativity, and, after a journey of more than two hundred
miles, became a resident in the state of New- York. His
* " Harvey Birch,'' says Cooper, in his interesting novel of the Spy,
"was supposed to be a native of one of the Eastern colonies." — Spy, Vol,
i.p. 81.
f It is well known, that the " mother country" had, for a long period,
reaped a rich harvest from the trade of her colonial subjects in North'
America. In order to secure a perpetuity of these commercial advantages,
by compelling her colonists to " let their workshops remain in Europe,"
sundry prohibitory acts were passed by parliament, in the year alluded
to, which produced considerable excitement on this side the Atlantic,
3

18 THE SPY UNMASKEB J OK
father had purchased a farm in the township of South
east,* then in the county of Dutchess, but since set off
as part of the county of Putnam, to which place he re
moved his family in 1 753.
In this delightful retreat, Enoch passed the happy
period of childhood ; blest with parents whose tenderness
and affection were only equalled by the rectitude of their
lives; and indulged with every reasonable gratification
that moderate affluence could procure.
The natural scenery which surrounded his paternal
mansion, was picturesque, wild, and romantic ; and, no
doubt, contributed to tinge his infantile mind -with that
cast of romance and adventure which so eminently influ
enced the actions of his riper years. His earliest recrea
tions were among cragged rocks and dizzy steeps ; fright
ful precipices, roaring cataracts, and placid lakes. A
high and romantic eminence called Joe's Hill, which rises
near the centre of the town, and extends several miles
into the state of Connecticut, was the theatre of many of
his juvenile exploits ; as were, also, the flowery banks of
the meandering Croton, and the borders of several beau
tiful ponds, which lie like mirrors in the bottom of valleys,
reflecting from their lucid surface the mountains and the
sky. Endowed by nature with more thaij ordinary physi
cal advantages, he generally bore away the palm from his
play-fellows, in every athletic exercise ; especially such
as required a combination of personal courage, strength,
and activity.
* This town derives its name from its situation, being the southeast
corner of Putnam county. In extent it is about six miles square ; bounded
by Connecticut on the East, and the county of Westchester (the neutral
ground) on the South. The face of the country is rather mountainous
and hilly, with numerous little valleys running Southwest and Northeast.
It is well watered by the Croton and Mill rivers, and their tributary
streams. There are, in the town, five natural ponds, the largest of which
if) two miles in length and one in breadth.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 19
Thus, for several years, glided the smooth current of
his existence, sparkling in the sunbeams of hope, and un
ruffled by any intruding cares, save such as are incidental
to the April morning of life. As his mental faculties
gradually developed themselves, they were doubtless as
sisted by such precarious literary instruction as could be
conveniently obtained in a thinly populated district, at a
period when the state of education was not very promising
in any part of the country. '
Under such circumstances, it is not to be presumed that a
lad of fourteen years could have a very clear idea of the
political relations existing between different countries;
yet there is little doubt, that the political discussions to
which, at that age, he was frequently a silent listener, had
considerable influence in preparing his mind for the part
he was destined to perform in the great drama of the revo
lution. These discussions originated in certain acts of the
British parliament, which were passed in the year 1764 ;
one of which commenced in the following alarming terms :
" Whereas it is just and necessary, that a revenue be
raised in America, for defraying the expenses of defend
ing, protecting, and securing the same,* we, the com-
* Tudor, in his life of Otis, gives us the following interesting anecdote ¦'
" When President Adams was minister at the court of St. James, he
often saw his countryman, Benjamin West, the late president of the royal
academy. Mr. West always retained a strong and unyielding affection
for his native land. Mr. West one day asked Mr. Adams, if he should
like to take a walk with him, and see the cause of the American revolution.
The minister, having known something of this matter, smiled at the pro
posal, but told him that he should be glad to see the cause of that revo
lution, and to take a walk with his friend West any where. The next
morning he called according to agreement, and took Mr. Adams into Hyde
Park, to a spot near the Serpentine river, where he gave him the following
narrative. The king came to the throne a young man, surrounded by
flattering courtiers ; one of whose frequent topics it was, to declaim against
the meanness of his palace, which was wholly umverthy a monarch of

gQ XHE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
mons, &c. give and grant unto your majesty, the sum of,"
&c. Here followed a specification of duties on certam
articles of foreign produce, such as sugar, indigo, coffee,
' silks, calicoes, molasses, and syrups. . ^.
This being the first act of the kind (avowedly for the
purpose of raising a revenue from the colonies,) that had
ever disgraced the pariiamentary statute-book, it naturally
produced much excitement and animadversion on this side
the Atlantic. The merits of the question were freely and
warmly canvassed by persons of all conditions and ages,
and in every situation where two or three happened to be
congregated ; by females as well as males, and even by
children in their seasons of recreation. The village lasses
felt indignant at the interference of parliament in matters
connected with the regulation of their wardrobes ; while
the children justly apprehended some economical restric
tions in their usual allowance of gingerbread and sweet
meats. Master Enoch, of course, was not an indifferent audi
tor of these perpetual discussions ; but regularly reiterated,
to an audience of school-fellows, such of his father's ar
guments and observations, as his juvenile mind partially
such a country as England. They said that there was not a sovereign in
Europe who was lodged so poorly ; that bis sorry, dingy, old, brick palace
of St. James, looked like a stable, and that he ought to build a palace
suitable to his kingdom. The king was fond of architecture, and would
therefore more readily listen to suggestions, which were in fact all true.
This spot that you see here, was selected for the site, between this and
this point, which were marked out. The king applied to bis ministers on
the subject ; they inquired what sum would be wanted by his majesty,
who said that he would begin with a million : they stated the expenses of
the War, and the poverty of the treasury, tut that his majesty's wishes
should be taken into full consideration. Some time afterwards (he king
was informed, that the wants of the treasury were too urgent to admit of
a supply from their present means, but that a revenue might be raised in
America to supply all the king's wishes. This suggestion was followed
up, and the kiTig was in this waj iirst led to consider, and then to consent^
to the scheme for taxing the colonies."

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 31
comprehended. Each of his comrades could, from a
similar source, furnish his own quota of remark ; and thus
a determined spirit of opposition to ministerial encroach
ments on colonial rights, was permanently, and almost
instinctively, established in the bosoms of the rising gene
ration, even before they were capable of understanding
the nature or extent of the subject.
Ere these newly awakened feelings, in the minds of
Americans, were allowed time to subside, the celebrated
Stamp act was received from England. The astonish
ment, alarm, and indignation, which now agitated every
patriotic breast, would not be restrained, but burst forth
in expressions and acts that could not be misunderstood
by the friends and abettors of the obnoxious measure. A
string of -patriotic resolutions on the subject, offered by
the celebrated Patrick Henry, and adopted by the legis
lature of Virginia, were printed, and circulated through
all the provinces. Wherever they were read, they were
hailed with enthusiasm ; even school-boys were encour
aged to recite them in their respective classes, and ex
horted to imbibe the spirit by which they had been dic
tated.* • A new mode of expressing the popular resentment against
this odious act, began with the whigs in Boston, and was
soon adopted by those of the neighbouring colonies. This
was by hanging or burning, in effigy, such of the principal
loyalists as had openly avowed themselves friendly to the
revenue system. The temper which prompted these tu
multuous proceedings rapidly spread through the colonies,
until popular commotions prevailed to a degree that gave
serious alarm to those cool and ' reflecting citizens who
regarded the morals as well -as (the liberties of their
country. Scarcely a day passed without furnishing the
:. * When these resolutions were first read in the bouse of burgesses, itt
Vii^inia, the boldness and novelty of them affected one of the members
to sueli a degree, that lie cried out " Treason ! treason !"

22 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
peaceful inhabitants of Southeast with some new account
of riots,* mobs, and summary chastisements, inflicted on
the friends of the stamp act, in Boston, Newport, New-
York, Baltimore, and other populous towns. This was
certainly a dangerous spirit to let loose in society ; and
though, in the present instance, its excesses were, perhaps,
in some measure, sanctified by its motives, still the neces
sity of its existence was deeply deplored by the best friends
of their country.
The mind of youth is easily dazzled by such vivid cor-
ruscations of patriotic fervour ; and there is little doubt
that they had a due share of influence in the formation of
Enoch Crosby's character.
About this period, patriotic associations were formed,
the members of which were denominated the " Sons of
Idberty," and they agreed " to march with the utmost
expedition, (at their own proper cost and expense,) with
their whole force, to the relief of those who should be, in
danger from the stamp act, or its promoters and abettors,
on account of any thing done in opposition to its obtain
ing." This agreement was subscribed to by such num
bers in N.ew-York and the Eastern states, that nothing
short of '^'repealof the offensive act could have prevente^d
the immediate commencement of a civil war. It was ac
cordingly repealed on the 18th of March, 1766,
The subject of this memoir very distinctly remembers
the unusual rejoicings which took place in his vicinity, in
consequence of this highly interesting event. Similar
demonstrations of joy were exhibited throughout the colo
nies. The names of Camden and Pitt were cheered to
the skies. Every indigfiant resolution was immediately
rescinded ; the churciies; resounded with thanksgivings ;
? In all America there had been but seven presses issuing newspapers,
previous to the j ear 1750. In 1765 they had increased to twenty.six on
the continent, and^oe in the West India Islands.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 33
illuminations and bonfires were every where exhibited ;
and a joyful holyday was held throughout the country 
This was another circumstance that made a lasting im
pression on the youthful mind of Enoch, and assisted in '
the formation of a character which has since been so ad
mirably delineated by the pen of a master.
But while the whole country was thus dissolved in joy,
there were not iVanting a few enlightened patriots, who
maintained " that the immoderate transports of the colo
nists were disproportioned to the advantage they had
gained ;" for at the same time that the stamp act was
repealed, the absolute unlimited supremacy of parliament
was, in words, asserted.
'^i\ " Wherefore do we rejoice 1" asked the good clergy
man, to whose pious exhortations, both in public and
private, the Crosby family ever listened with pleased and
devout^attention. " Is it because the parliament of Great
Britain has been graciously pt^ed to exchange our hand^i.
cufis for fetters 1 Is it because she claims the power and
right to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever 1 Are
we prepared for this^? Shall the petty island of Great
Britain, scarce a speck on the map of the world, control
the free citizens of the great continent of America ? God
foFbid !"
" I believe, sir," replied the elder Crosby, " that we
are hallooing before we are fairly out of the woods Our
politicians seem to overlook the degrading condition which
is tacked to this boasted repeal, that we must make com-
.^ensation to those who have suffered, in person or pro
perty, through their own wilful adherence to the cause of
our oppressors. If we submit to this, we deserve to be
slaves." « It appears to me," observed the village schoolmaster,
who happened to be present, and who was strongly sus
pected of leaning to the ministerial side of the question ;

24 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
« it appears to me, that if we look at this subject by the
pure light of sober reason, and not by the illusive flashes
of excited passion, we shall see the propriety of waiving
all debate and controversy ; and, for the sake of internal
peace, of making the trifling compensation required. It
cannot amount to much."
« It is not the amount of the sum that I object to," re
turned the other. " It is the principle that I am contend-
ing for. If we yield in one point, there is no telling how
far their encroachments may extend."
" Is not their compliance with our petitions for repeal
ing t^e stamp act an evidence of their respect for the
rights olE the colonies 1"
" No, sir," replied the clergyman. " In this measure, "
the ministr;^ have not been so much actuated' by principles
of equity, as impelled by necessity."
" Necessity !" rfeiterated the pedagogue. " To me it
appears an act of favour and' lenity."
"The doctrine of submission, passive obedience, and
non-resistance, may do very well in the discipline of your
schoolj" answered Crosby ; " but I hope my son will
never imbibe, from you, or any other man, such sentiments
as applied in politics."
Here the conversation terminated ; and Enoch, who
was present, did not feel any great increase of respect
towards his preceptor in consequence : nor was it long
afterwards, that his father placed him under the tuition of
an elderly gentleman, of superior literary acquiiements,
whose political sentiments were in accordance with his
own. As this personage will again appear on the stage,
in the progress of our little drama, we beg the reader to
bear in mind that he is not only a " staunch whig," but,
in every other respect, a worthy man.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 25

CHAPTER II.
LEATINGtHOME. '
" Here, as, with wearied steps, I bent my way,
I mark'd each dear and well-remembered spot.
Where youth had buoyed my mind with visions gay,
Nor thought I then how hard would be my lot."
At the period of which we are writing, it was the
earnest wish of all parties, that harmony might be re
established between Great Britain and her American
colonies. The severities of the British government
"had not yet taught the Colonists to express themselves in
any other modes of language, but what indicated their
firm attachment to the mother country ; nor had they
erased the habitual ideas, even of tenderness, conveyed
in their usual modes of expression. When they formed
a design to visit England, it had always been thus an
nounced, ' I am going home.' Home, the seat of hap
piness, the retreat of all the felicities of the human mind,
is too intimately associated with the best feelings of the
heart, to renounce without pain, whether applied to the
natural or the political parent."*
But although a strong desire for the re-establishment of
harmony was manifested by persons of every description,
there still existed a great diversity of opinion as to the best
means of producing so desirable a result. " There were
several classes in America, who were at first exceedingly
opposed to measures that militated with the designs of ad
ministration. Some, impressed by long connexion, were in
timidated by her power, and attached by affection to Britain:
others, the true disciples of passive obedience, had real
scruples of conscience with regard to any resistance to
? Mrs. Warren, 4

^y THE SPY UNMASKEB ; OR
'the powers that be:' these, whether actuated by affec
tion or fear, by principle or interest, formed a close com
bination with the colonial governors, custom-house offi
cers, and all insubordinate departments who hung on the
court for subsistence."*
The partizan distinctioiwjf whig and tory was adopted
at an early stage of the controversy, and introduced in
every political altercation to which it gave rise. It was
no uncommon occurrence for members of the same family,
not only to espouse opposite sides of the question, but to
defend the stand they had taken with a zeal and pertina
city that ultimately sundered the tenderest ties of consan
guinity. Thus, as the general ferment increased, the father
was often arrayed " against the son, and the son against
the father ;" brothers became implacable enemies to each
other; and even the fair sex were not unfrequently involved
in this frightful whirlpool of political contention,
Fortunately for the subject of these memoirs, and hap
pily for his country, his father's family, to adopt his own
expression, were " staunch whigs ;" so was a majority of
their fellow-townsmen, particularly the good clergyman,
the Rev. Mr. Gregory, before mentioned. Indeed, the
clergy, of every denomination, throughout the country,
with very few exceptions, warmly espoused the cause of
the colonies ; and embraced every opportunity, both in
public and private, of exhorting their flocks manfully to
resist every encroachment on their rights as freemen.
Their influence was great, and its effects such as might
have been expected, f
* Mrs. Warren's American Revolution.
fThe clergyman of New-England, in particular, were among the
strongest advocates of " Whig principles ;" there were a few instances
only of a separation of a minister from his people, in consequence of a dis
agreement in political sentiment. It was recommended by the provincial
congress of Massachusetts, that on other occasions than the Sabbath,
ministers of parishes should adapt their discourses to the times, and ex
plain the nature of civil and religious liberty, and the duties of migistrates
and rulers. A zealous divine, who had been compelIe4 to abandon the

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 37
The attention of the elder Crosby, hojieierer, and that
of his amiable family, were, for a time, divertedLftom po
litical difficulties by domestic misfortunes. From a state
of comfort and comparative affluence, he suddenly found
himself reduced to poverty and distress.** This unex
pected reverse of fortune rendered it necessary for the
son, at the age of sixteen, to leave, for the first time, the
shelter of his paternal roof, and seek his own fortune in
an untried world.
The painful sensations incidental to the parting of an
affectionate child from indulgent parents, and the home of
his childhood, are seldom forgotten by the parties con
cerned ; but in the present instance, their impression was
left with a vividness of colouring which the lapse of more
than sixty years has not been able to obliterate. In re
verting to this incident, at the age of seventy-eight, the
subject of this memoir expressed himself, in substance, as
follows :
" At the age of sixteen the scene changed,, and I was
compelled to leave the home of my childhood, to seek the
protection of strangers, and depend upon my own exer
tions for support. With the scanty outfit Of a change of
people of his charge in Boston, on one occasion used, in the pulpit, at
P***, the following emphatic language : " 0 LorcUif dur enemies wiU
fight us, let them have fighting enough. If more solmers are on their way
hither, sink them, 0 Lord, to the bottom of the sea." Thacher^s Jour-
ntd, p. 33. "The clergy of New-England were a numerous, learned, and
respectable body, who had a great ascendancy over the minds of their
hearers- They connected religion and patriotism, and, in their sermons
and prayers, represented the cause of America as the cause of Heaven. "
Ramsey, " The clergy were among the first and most zealous patriots,
both in speaking and writing in vindication of the rights of their country.
No class of men had more deeply imbibed the spirit of their venerable
ancestors, the first settlers of New-England, than they. None more
generally engaged in the cause of their injured country, nor had a greater
and more general influence upon the people." Marsh's Rev.
*Mr. Cooper frequently intimates that the patients of Harvey Birch
bad been suddenly "reduced from competence to poverty." See Spy,
Vol. i. p. 33, and 154.

08 THE SPY UNMASKED J OR
clothes and a few shillings in my pocket, I bade a long
adieu to the friends I best loved, and the scenes of my
happiest days. After receiving the blessing of my parents,
with much good advic. , and a small Bible, which they as
sured me would prove my greatest consolation in every
trial and affliction that might befall me, I shouldered my
pack, clasped their hands in silence— for I dared not trust
my voice to say 'farewell ."—and hastened away, leaving
my poor mother in an agony of tears.
« I proceeded a short distance, with a burden at my
heart much heavier than the one on my back. I then
paused, and cast back a ' longing lingering look,' on the
spot that I could once call my home — but now no longer
a home for me. I 'then resumed my march, and after '
proceeding a little further, again turned ; when, for the
last time, I saw my weeping mother through the window,
gazing, with streaming eyes, after her exiled son. I hur
ried away — I could not look again. The hills which sur
rounded the beloved mansion soon hid it from my view, and
I felt myself alone in the world, cut off from all that I held
dear ; while the future appeared like a dark impenetrable
cloud, scarcely illumined by a ray of hope."
Painful as these sensations must have. been to a youth
in his circumstances, they were^ soon dissipated by the
novelty ever at^dant on a change of scene and associa
tions. He became an apprentice to a worthy man who
resided in the Eastern part of Phillipstown, since called
Kent, in the county of Putnam. Here he was taught the
" art and mystery of a cordwaiuer," and faithfully fulfilled
his term of service, which terminated ou the fourth day
of January, 1771, that day completing his twenty -first
year. Let it not be supposed, however, that during all this period
iie was an uncon^rned spectator of the political movements
around him. Far from it. The sentiments which he had

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 2i}
imperceptibly imbibed in childhood, "grew with his
growth, and strengthened with his strength," and now
began to flow out into effective operation. Although
military discipline had for several years been almost totally
neglected, it now began to assume a more respectable at
titude. New trainbands were organized, in one of which
young Crosby soon became an active and efficient mem
ber ; and he largely shared in the prevailing impression,
that a most important crisis was fast approaching, for which
it was the duty of every lover of his country to be duly and
properly prepared. Nor was this impression weakened
by an incident which occurred in the last year of his mi
nority ; an incident which forms a conspicuous chapter
in the history of those times. We mean the massacre, in
cold blood, of several citizens in the streets of Boston, by
the British soldiery. This wanton act of barbarity was
perpetrated in open day, on the 5th. of March, 1770.
No previous outrage had produced such a general alarm
as the one here alluded to. " Yet the accident that
created a resentment which emboldened the timid, deter
mined the wavering, and awakened an energy and decision
that neither the artifices of the courtier, nor the terror of
the sword, could easily overcome, arose from a trivial
circumstance :
" A sentinel, posted at the door of %e custom-house,
bad seized and abused a boy, for casting some opprobrious
reflections on an officer of rank ; his cries collected a
number of other lads, vvho took the childish revenge of
pelting the soldier with snow-balls. The main guard,
stationed in the neighbourhood of the custom-house, was
informed by some persons from thence, of the rising tu
mult. They immediately turned out under the command
of a Captain Preston, and beat to arms. The cry of fire
was raised in all parts of the town ; the mob collected,
and the soldiery, from all quarters, ran through the streets,

3Q THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
sword in hand, threatening and wounding the people, and
with every appearance of hostility they rushed furiously
to the centre of the town.
« The soldiers, thus ready for execution, and the popu
lace grown outrageous, the whole town was justly terri
fied by the unusual alarm. This naturally drew out per
sons of higher condition and more peaceably disposed, to
inquire the cause. Their consternation can scarcely be
described, when they found orders were given to fire pro
miscuously among the unarmed multitude. Five or six
persons fell at the first fire, and several more were dan
gerously wounded at their own doors."*
"How slightly soever historians may pass over this
event, the blood of the martyrs, right or wrong, proved to
be the « seeds of the congregation.'' Not the battle of Lex
ington or Bunker's Hill; not the surrender of Burgoyne
or Cornwallis, were more important events in American
history, than the battle of King-street, on the 6th of
March, I770."t
The immediate result of this outrage is well known.
Captain Preston and his party were taken into custody of
a civil magistrate, tried for murder, and acquitted ; and
all the royal troops were subsequently removed from the
town to the fort about three miles below. But the indig
nant feelings which it had created in every patriotic bosom
were not to be appeased. The blood of their brethren
cried from the ground for vengeance, and the appeal was
felt in every section of the country. Like other young
men of his age, Enoch Crosby ardently longed for an op
portunity to mingle the blood of the assassin with that of
their victims. But the hour had not yet come.:}:
* Mrs. Warren's American Revolution.
t John Adams' letters to Dr. Morse.
I The town of Huston instituted an annual oration in commemoration
of this catastrophe, and among the first orators were such names as Han
cock, Warren, and Lovell.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 81

CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST CAMPAIGN. ?^!^
" O, who, reclined in dastard ease.
Could hear bis country's call in vain ;
Or view her banner court the breeze.
Nor sigh to join the hostile train," Wood WORTH,
As we are not writing a "history of the rise and progress
of the revolutionary war, but merely the memoirs of a
private individual who took an active part in that momen
tous contest, it is only requisite to give a brief detail of
such events as are connected, more or less remotely, with
his own transactions.
The destruction of the tea in Boston,* the consequent
pprt-bill,t as it was called, the formation of a continental
Congress, and the arrival of General Gage with an army
to reduce the " refractory colonists" to submission, are
prominent features in the history of four years, from the
period of our last chapter. But events of still greater
importance were at hand, and anticipated with trembling
anxiety. Among the " signs of the times," was the newly-awa
kened military ardour which prevailed throughout the colo
nies, more especially in the Eastern states. In almost
every town, a certain quota of hardy youth were draughted
from the militia trainbands, who voluntarily devoted a
daily portion of their time to improve themselves in the
* See Appendix, No. I.
t The 1st day of June, 1774, the day when the Boston port-bill began
to operate, was observed, in most of the colonies,, ^itb uncommon solem
nity, as a day of fasting and prayer.

g2 THE SPY tTNMASKED J OB,
military art, under officers of their own choice. These
were styled « minute-men," and stood ready to march at a
momenlfs warning, to defend the rights of their countrymen.
At this period, the younger Crosby resided at Danbury,
in the state of. Connecticut ; and though it was not his
fortune to be draughted as a minute-man, he was still
actuated by the same martial spirit which inspired the rest
of his countrymen. The year 1775 had opened without
the occurrence of any incident of much political impor
tance ; but while thousands of bosoms were throbbing
with feelings of intense interest, every eye was directed to
the capital of Massachusetts as the quarter from whence
momentous intelligence might be hourly expected.
The public mind was in this state of feverish suspense,
when, in the month of April, an express arrived at Dan-
bury, with intelligence that ^' upwards of four-score of
Americans had been inhumanly butchered on the plains"
of Lexington,* by a detachment of the British army,
which had afterwards been put to flight by a few raw
country militia. That houses had been rifled, plun^red,
and burnt ; that neither sex, age, nor infirmity, had been
respected by these ruthless marauders ; and that women,
with their new-born infants, had been compelled to fly
naked, to escape the fury of the flames in which their
houses were enwrapped !"f
* When General Washington heard of the battle <^ Lexington, April
19, 1775, and of tbe slaughter of the Americans on that occasion, he said,
" I grieve for the death of my countrymen ; but rejoice that the British
are still so determined to keep God on our side : for the smiles of Heaven
can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of
order and right, which Heaven itself has ordained."— W'ems's Life of
Washington: t The celebrated Rev. John Home (Tooke,) two years after the
event, was tried, in England, and found guiltv of publishing an advertise
ment, in which it was asserted, " that tbe king's troops had committed
murder at Lexington, in America ;" he was, consequently, sentfinced to
imprisonment for a year, to pay a fine of 8001. and to find securitjf for his
good behaviour for three years l—Fordyoe's Chronology.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 33
The sensation produced by this intelligence not only at
Danbury, but in every other place, can be better con
ceived than described. The shock was electric, and the
whole country flew to arms.*
" They heard — and the plough in the furrow was stay'd,
^ Each art was relinquished for musket and blade ;
The pipe of the swain in the valley was still,
While the bugle rang loud from each fortified bill."
Within twenty-four hours after the routed " regulars"
had regained the protection of their shipping, the town
of Boston was invested by several thousands of our exas
perated countrymen ; while the colonies of Connecticut,
Rhode Island, and New-H^pshire, seemed all to be in
motion. Indeed, " such was the resentment of the people,
and the ardour of enterprise, that it was with difficulty
they were restrained from rushing into Boston, and rashly
involving their friends, in common with their enemies, in
all the calamities of a town taken by storm."f
, The outrage at Lexington occurred on Wednesday, the
19th of April ; but the news did not reach the city of
New-York until late on Saturday evening, nor was it
generally known until Sunday morning. A meeting of
the citizens immediately took place ; who, without much
ceremony, seized upwards of five hundred stands of
muskets and bayonets belonging to his Britannic majesty.
On the following day, the keys of the custom-house
were secured by the whigs ; who. soon made themselves
* ¦ -J. '
* Israel Putnam (afterwards Major-general) was ploughing in.,his
field when he heard tbe news. He iustantlj^'topped his team, left the
plough in the furrow, mounted a horse, and in eigh^en hours was on the
battle-ground, a distance of one hundred miles f He then returned to
Connecticut, and raised an army ; the provincial congress of Massa^
chusetts having that day voted to raise thirty thousand men.
} Mrs. Warren's American Revolution.

34 THE SPY UNMASKED J OR
masters of all the public stores in the king's ware-houses
in the city and at Turtle Bay.
At this time there were about three hundred regular
British troops in the city, commanded by a Major ; and
very serious apprehensions were entertained, that the con
fused and disorderly manner in which the foregoing^trans.!
actions were conducted, would produce a rupture between
the soldiers and the populace. A regular general meet
ing of the citizens was therefore called, and a committee
of fifty appointed, who were invested with full powers to
act as the exigency and circumstances of the times
might require. At this meeting a set of spirited resolu
tions were passed, and signed by the citizens at large, in
which they pledged themselves, their lives, their fortunes,
and their sacred honour, to support their comnSttee in all
its operations, and also every measure of the general con
gress, then in session at Philadelphia.
One of the first acts of the committee, was an order
permitting the British troops to depart without interrup
tion, taking with them their arms and accoutrementSi-^
Jn consequence of this order, the troops prepared to em
bark on the following day ; when it was observed that
they had several carts loaded with spare arms. Marinus
Willett, and some others, immediately resolved to prevent
this virtual infraction of their agreement; and meeting
the troops in Broadway, stopped them, and without much
difficulty took possession of the spare arms. With these
Willett armed a new company of his own raising, with
which he joined the first Canadian expedition.
The citizens of Danbury were not backward in this
moment of general excitement.* A rendezvous was
This excitement was not confined to any class, age, or sex. The
-females largely participated in the patriotic ardour that prevailed, and
exhibited instances of heroic virtue that were never surpassed by the
celebrated women of Sparta. See Appendix, No. i«-. ' .

MEMOIR^ OF ENOCH CROSBY. ' 35
" opened, to which the youth of the county flocked from
every quarter ; and two regiments were inamediately
raised, one under the command of Colonel (afterward
General) Wooster, and tbe other under the command of
Colonel Waterbury. Within a few hours from the arrival of
the express at Danbury, the name of Enoch Crosby was in
scribed on the muster-roll of Captain Benedict, followed
by those of one hundred and fifty young men, all residents
of that town; forming the most efficient company in
Waterbury's regiment.*
As soon as these regiments were duly organized, equip
ped, and reported to the provincial congress of Massa
chusetts, then in session at Watertown,t they impatiently
¦waited for orders to move aud act in defence of their
Eastern brethren. Nor was their impatience abated by
the successes of their enterprising neighbours at Ticonde-
roga and Crown Point, on the 10th of May following;:):
* It is worthy of remark, that every one of these young men returned
from the Northern campaign in safety ; while, during their short absence,
one hundred deaths occurred in the town where they belonged. Perhaps,
by going into danger, many of them preserved their lives.
f This legislative body had voted to raise thirty thousand men ,
thirteen thousand and six hundred of them to be of their own province ;
and that a letter and defegate be sent to the several colonies of New-
Hampshire, Connecticut, and Rhode Island. The Committee of safety
also sent letters to the several towns in tbe colony soliciting assistance.
I This enterprise was managed by Colonels Easton, Arnold, and
Allen ; and so secretly, judiciously, and rapidly was the, expedition con
ducted, that they entered the garrison before it was known that an enemy
was near it. Arnold and Allen contended for the honour of entering the
fort first ; but it was finally agreed that they should both go in togetljJBr.
-They advanced abreast, and entered the fortress at the dawning of. day.
A sentry snapped his piece at one of them, and then retreated through
the covered way to the parade. The Americans followed, and immediately
drew up. The commander, surprised in his bed, was called upon to sur
render the fort. " By what authority V exclaimed the astonished offi
cer, rubbing his eyes, and scarcely knowing whether he was asleep or
awake. ,|
" I demand it in the name of the great Jehovah, and of the continental
congress," was the reply of Colonel Allen.

36 THE spy UNMASKED ; OR
but on the news of the battle of Bunker Hill,* it was
wrought up to a pitch of painful intensity. Every man
longed to be in the field, and share in the dangers and
glory that awaited the champions of liberty. This patri
otic ardour was shortly to be gratified.
The continental congress was now in session at Phila
delphia ; and, at this period, the importance of possessing
the Canadas, strongly impressed the minds of gentlemen
of the first penetration, private citizens as well as the re-
.presentatives of the several colonies, in that august legis
lative body. It was thought a favourable crisis to make
the attempt " when the flower of the British troops, then
in America, were shut up in Boston ; and when the go
vernors of the Southern provinces, interrupted in their
negociations with the Indians, had taken refuge on board
the king's ships, either from real or imagined personal
danger."f It was, therefore, determined to employ
Colonel Waterbury's regiment, together with two regi
ments of New- York militia, in this important and hazard
ous service ; the whole force consisting of about three
thousand men, under the command of Generals Schuyler
and Montgomery.
The reader may easily imagine with what alacrity our
hero and his fellow-soldiers obeyed the orders of their
superiors, to " strike their tents and march away." The
language of each heart was,
" Strike up the drums ; and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest."
They were ordered to the city of New- York, where
The authority could not be disputed. The fort was surrendered without
i-esistance. together with forty-eight prisoners, several brass and iron
cannon, and a valuable quantity of warlike stores.
* See Appendix, No. III.
t Mrs. Warren's American Revolution.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 37
they were joined by the New- York militia, one corps of
which was commanded by the gallant Willett ; but en
camped about two miles out of town, near the spot now
occupied as Vauxhall garden.* After remaining in this
position about three weeks, they removed to Harlaem,,
and encamped in the village. From thence they took
boats, and proceeded up the Hudson to Albany, on their
way to Lake Champlain.
General Schuyler being detained at Albany, for the
purpose of negociating an Indian treaty, his coadjutor, the
intrepid Montgomery, led on his gallant band of patriots
to Ticonderoga, where they arrived on tbe twenty-first
day of August, t As soon as a sufficient number of
* In the year 1775, the city of New- York (we mean the compact
part of it) extended no farther north than Fartitien-stieet, now called
Fulton-street, near St. Paul's church. Beyond this there were only a few
scattering houses, with here and there a handsome country-seat. It was
considered a pleasant ramble " out of town' to go to " the fields," where
the City Hall now stands.
t The fortress of Ticonderoga, so often mentioned in the history of the
American wars, is now a heap of ruins, though many of the walls are so
entire as to exhibit proofs of the excellency of their construction, and of
the plan of the works. It was built by the French in I75C, on a point of
land formed by the junction of lake George creek with lake Chaihplaiu,
in N. lat. 43° 50', and 34' E. long, from New- York : elevation, above
lake Champlain, UO'feet ; above tide waters, 196 feet The name is de
rived to us from the Indians, Frenchified ; and signified nimy : Che-on-
der-oga ; probably in allusion to the water. But the. French called it
Fort Carillon. It was a place of great strength, both by nature and art.
On three sides, it is surrounded by water, and about half of the other side
is occupied by a deep swamp, and the line of defence was completed by
the French, with the erection of a breast-work, 9 feet high, on the only
assailable ground. In 1758, Gfen. Abercrombie, with the British army,
assailed this fortress ; was defeated July 9, with the loss of 1941 men.
But it was surrendered to Gen. Amherst, in July of the following year.
It was the first fortress carried by the arms of America, in the war that
established our Independence ; it was taken by surprise, by Col. Allen,
May 10, 1775, and retained till July 1777, when it was evacuated, on the
approach of Gen. Burgoyne with the British army.

gy THE SP* UNMASKED ; OR
boats could be provided to convey the army down Lake
Champlain, they embarked for Isle aux J^oix, lying about
eleven miles north of the lake, in the river Sorel, which
connects the waters of Champlain with that of the St.
Lawrence. On reaching Isle La Motte, they were re
joined by General Schuyler, who had prepared an address
to the inhabitants of Canada, inviting them to join the
standard of liberty, and unite in the common cause of
America. From Isle aux Noix, the army proceeded to St. Johns,
the first British post in Canada.* During their passage
down the river, the soldiers were directed to hold them
selves constantly in readiness for defence, as it was rea
sonably apprehended that they might be assailed by'ithe
Indians from the woods, which skirted the stream.
On effecting a landing, at a short distance from fort St.
Johns, me assailants, about one thousand in number, im
mediately formed in full view of the garrison, and prepi^red
for hostile operations. Their movements, at this juncture,
are thus described by Crosby himself :
" We were now in full view of the enemy, who kept
up a constant cannonading, which only caused us to dodge
now and then, merely serving to get us into a fighting
mood. We were soon ordered to advance ; but had only
proceeded a few roods, when we were suddenly attacked
by a body of Indians in ambush ; who, after a short con
test, were glad to sho^^s a specimen of their speed in
running, t
* About lis miles north of Ticonderoga.
t Ramsay says, that " the British pickets were driven into the fort.
The environs were then reconnoitred, and the fortifications were found
to be much stronger than had been suspected. This induced the calling
of a council of war, which recommended a retreat to Isle aux Noix." —
Mrs. Warren says, that " an unexpected attack from a large body of
Indians obliged them to retreat to their former post, and await the arrival
of reinforcements." The latter account is in strict conformity with Mr.
Crosby's own statement. Both, however, may be correct.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 39
" Our sport, however, was soon interrupted by an order
to halt ! — when, after burying the dead, and providing for
the wounded, a council of war was held by the officers,
in which it was determined to return to Isle aux Noix,
throw a boom across the channel, and erect works for its
defence. " In the mean time, a breastwork, was ordered to be
thrown up on the spot where we stood ; and accordingly
every one went to work with alacrity. While some were
felling trees and preparing timber for this purpose, and
others throwing up the earth to form a parapet, we were
constantly annoyed by the shells thrown from the fort. —
This circumstance tended to retard our operations ; for
when a shell rose in the air, every one would stop work
ing to watch its course, and ascertain if it would fall near
him. I must confess that I felt no particular affection
for these unwelcome intruders, but rather regai^gd them
as ' messengers of evil ;' still, however, notwithstanding
the*cold reception which I gave these warm-hearted
visiters, I never thought of the fashionable expedient of
'not being at home,'(in other words, of 'dodging them,')
until I heard some one exclaim, ' Look out ! — take care,
there !' when I looked up, and saw one descending
towards the very spot where I was standing. I threw
myself flat on the ground, and it just passed over me. ' A
miss is as good as a mile' thought I, as I sprang from my
recumbent posture, and resumed my labour. But after
that, I kept one eye upon the enemy,
" Our general, however, gave us some instructions on
this subject. He advised us never to change our position
until the shell was directly over us ; and if it should then
appear that it had lost its projectile force, and was falling,
J= it would be well enough to step on one side.' He was

40 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
a noble fellow, that Montgomery.* Every soldier in the
army loved him like a brother.
" When the breastwork was completed, which was in
a much shorter time than might have been expected, con
sidering the circumstances under which we laboured, we
prepared for a retreat ; as this show of hostility was merely

* Montgomery was a warm-hearted Irishman ; and war was bis pro
fession. He had been a captain of grenadiers in the 17tb regiment of
British troops, of which Moncton was colonel. In 1772, he quitted his
regiment, though in a fair way of preferment, because he disapproved of
the sentiments of the ministry, and had imbibed an affection for America,-
wbich he viewed as the rising seat of arts and freedom. A sentiment of
a still more tender nature might have had some influence in this transae-
tion, as he soon afterward married the beautiful and accomplished daughter
of Judge Livingston, of New- York. His many amiable qualities had^ro-
cured him an uncommon share of private affection, and his great abilities
an equal proportion of public esteem. His name was mentioned in par
liament vjith singular respect. The minister himself acknowledged bis
worth, while he reprobated the cause he had espoused. He concluded an
involuntary panegyric, by exclaiming—" Curse on his virtues ! theyjitave
undone his country." When he embraced bis amiable lady for the last
time, on his departure for Canada, and bade her a tender farewell, his
parting words were—" You shall never blush for your Mon^omeiy.»
She never did — but a nation wept bis untimely fall.
" Yes, yes, I go," he whispered soft,
" In freedom's cause my sword to wield.
Columbia's banner waves aloft.
And glory calls me to the field."
Then foremost on the foe he prest, ' '
While war's rude tempest wildly roar'd.
Till, gushina: from the hero's breast.
The purple tide in torrents pour'd.
He fell, and oh ! what fancies stole
Through memory's vista, bright and warm.
Till one loved image o'er his soul
Came like an angel in the storm.
But loudly swell'd the bugle's blast,
His hand instinctive grasp'd the steel •
Again it swell'd— but all was past.
The warrior's breast had ceased to feel.

WoODWORTJi-

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 4l
a finesse to divert the enemy's attention. As soon as
night set in, and every object was shrouded in darkness,
we were ordered to decamp with as little noise as possible.
We accordingly took our boats, and returned up the river ;
leaving the «nemy to wonder at our sudden and myste
rious exit. On the following day, we reached Isle aux
Noix, where we remained two weeks, waiting for rein
forcements." Soon after this event, an extreme bad state of health
induced General Schuyler to retire to Ticonderoga, and
the sole command devolved on General Montgomery. —
Immediately on the arrival of his expected reinforcement,
this intrepid and enterprising officer returned to the vici
nity of St. Johns, and opened a battery against it on the
seventeenth day of September. " Ammunition, however,
was so scarce, that tbe siege could not be carried on with
any prospect of speedy success. The General, therefore,
detached a small body of troops, to attempt the reduction
effort Chamblee, only six miles distant. Success attended
this enterprise ; and, by its surrender, six tons of gun
powder were obtained, which enabled the General to pro
secute the siege of St. Johns with vigour. The garrison,
though straitened for provisions, persevered in defending
themselves with unabating fortitude."*
The severe duties of so arduous a campaign ; the fre
quent skirmishes, marches, and counter-marches, and
constant exposure to sudden changes of weather, in the
inclement month of October, were not without their effects
on the health of the soldiers^ Among others, Crosby was
seized with a severe indisposition, and removed to the
hospital at Isle aux Noix. But his impatience to share in
the dangers and glory of the approaching contest, would
not permit him to remain under the surgeon's hands but
* Ramsay's American Revolution.
6

42 THE SPY UNMASKEK ; OK
a few days, when he returned to the army, in direct op
position to the wishes of his' medical adviser. In relating
this incident, Mr. Crosby says—
« I returned against the surgeon's advice, and contrary
to the expectations of my Captain ; for as the time for
which we had enliste_d had nearly expired, he had no idea
that any of us invalids would rejoin the army. As soon
as he saw me, he accosted me in a tone of unaffected sur
prise ; 'Halloo, Crosby 1 Have you got back? What
induced you to return before your health was restored ;
I never expected to see you here again ; so you might as
well have gone home. You have not had time to get
well ; for you look more like a scarecrow than a soldier
fit for duty.' I replied, that I wished to be with hina ;.
and that if I was not able to fight, I might at least frighten
the enemy, as he thought I looked like a scarecrow. At
this remark he laughed heartily, and told me, that if I
wisLt^' yo much to fight,xthat I should soon be gratified.
Acc'ji dingly, in the course of the day we had a severe
engagement, in which we proved victorious ; and, to my
great satisfaction, I was one of the number that marched
into the fort to the tune of Yankee Doodle, and took
charge of the prisoners."*
Our invalid soon recovered his health, and continued
in the service until the army took possession of Montreal,

* Major Prestnn, the commanding officer at St. Johns, surrendered
that fortress on receiving honourable terms of capitulation. " By those
it was agreed, that the garrison should march out with the honours of
war ; that tbe officers and privates should ground their arms on the plain ;
the officers to keep their side-arms, and their fire-arms be reserved for
them, and that the people of the garrison should retain their effects.
About five hundred regulars, and one hundred Canadians became prisoners
to the provincials. They also acquired thirty-nino pieces of cannon, seven
mortars, and two howitzers, and about eight hundred stand of arms. —
Among the cannon were many brass field-pieces, an article of which the
Americans were nearly destitute."

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 43
which they did, without resistance, on the 12th of No
vember. His term of enlistment having now expired, he
proposed to return, once more, to the tranquil scenes of
his childhood. He was warmly solicited by his com
mandant to remain with the army, and even promised
promotion if he would comply ; but, being strongly im
pressed with the idea that a more extensive field for use
fulness would soon be opened in the vicinity of New- York,
he persisted in his intention of leaving the army. In
company with several others, whose term had also expired,
(having enlisted for six months only,) he embarked in a
small schooner for Crown Point,* where he arrived about
the I st of December.
" From thence, (says he,) our little party proceeded on
foot to Ticonderoga, where we procured a small boat,
and rowed up the river which connects Lake George with
Champlain. On reaching the falls, however, we were
* On Lake Champlain, about 12 miles north of Ticonderoga. " The
celebrated fortress of Crown Point, one of the best ever erected within
the present territory of the United States, gave its name to this town,
Tvhicb contains the ruins of the fort. Along the lake, the surface is pretty
level, but high mountains pervade the western part. The fort itself is
on a point of land jutting far into the water northward, and washed by a
considerable bay on the west, called West Bay. This fortress was first
erected by the French, in 1731, and called Fort St. Frederick. In 1759,
it was surrendered to the British troops under General Amherst, and was
occupied by them until May 14, 1775, when it fell into the hands of the
Americans, (as stated in a preceding note,) but was evacuated in 1776,
and again fell into the hands of the British. The walls were of wood and
earth, twenty-two feet thick, and sixteen feet in height. It was about
fifteen hundred yards square, surrounded by a deep and broad ditch, cut
in a solid granite rock, with immense labour. On the north is a double
TOW of strong stone barracks, of a capacity to contain two thousand
troops. On the same side was a gate, a strong drawbridge, and a covered
way to the margin of the lake. The whole are now in ruins, and the out
works, of which there were some pretty extensive, are little else than
heaps of rubbish, barely sufficient to revive remembrance." — Spafford's
'Gazetteer.

^4 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
compelled to draw our boat on shore, and drag it on the
ground, across a neck of land about a mile in width. In
this manner, with immense labour and fatigue, and suffer
ing greatly from the inclemency of the season, we reached
Sabbath-day Point,* in Lake George. Here, however,
no friendly shelter awaited us ; and though, almost perish
ing with cold, we could obtain no better quarters than an
old pig-stye. This miserable substitute for a tent was
soon filled with brush and straw ; when, with wet feet and
shivering bodies, (all of us being thinly clad,) we laid our
selves down to rest from the fatigues of the day."
At early dawn, on the following morning, this intrepid
little party resumed their unpleasant journey ; and, after
several days of fatigue and suffering, without meeting any
remarkable adventure, at length reached their respective
homes in safety.
After a few weeks repose had restored Crosby to his
usual health and strength, he resumed the peaceful occu
pation of shoe-making, in his former situation at Danbury.
Here he continued until the 25th of January, 1776,

* So called from its having been the scene of a bloody massacre on the
Sabbath day. A large party of whites had encamped there, without sus
pecting an enemy to be near them ; but the Indians came upon them sud
denly, and cut them off, almost to a man. Very few escaped to tell the
disastrous story. We have often heard the tradition, but are not in pos
session of the particulars. Lake George, of course, could not have been
attractive to our travellers in the middle of winter ; but in any other sea
son it is the most beautiful sheet of clear water in America, perhaps in
the world. It is about thirty-three miles in length, and nearly two in
breadth. Its northern extremity approaches within two and a half miles
of lake Champlain, and the outlet is little more than three miles long,
where it is said to descend 157 feet. Lake George is surrounded by high
mountains, and is excelled in romantic beauties by no similar waters in
the world. Its water is very deep, the bottom so clean that neither winds
or freshets render it turbid, and it abounds with the finest of fish for the
angler. Salmon trout are taken weighing twenty pounds and upwards,
with a great variety of other fish.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 45
when a sudden gloom was spread over the whole country,
by the disastrous news that his beloved General, the brave
and amiable Montgomery, had fallen before the walls of
Quebec, on the last day of December. Even at this dis
tant period, (1828,) Mr. Crosby cannot speak on this
subject without emotion. The soldiers almost adored
Montgomery ;, and there was scarcely an individual that
had ever served under him, but shed tears for his untimely
fate. Crosby was so much affected on first hearing of
the melancholy event, that he found it difficult to pursue
an occupation that gave so much opportunity for painful
reflections ; he, therefore, sought relief in change of
scenery, and paid a visit to his friends in Kent, where we
will leave him for the present, while we take a glance at
the state of the country, on the opening of the eventful
year 1776. In doing this we shall discover the causes
which prompted the subject of this memoir to assume a
new character in the revolutionary drama — that of a SPY,
on the " Neutral Ground."

46 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR

CHAPTER IV,

THE TORIES.

Know, villiiins, when such paltry slaves presume
To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds.
They 're thrown neglected by : but, if it fails.
They 're sure to die like dogs, as you shall do.

Addison.

The winter of 1775-6 passed tardily away, and no
military movements of consequence were made on either
side. The British troops remained shut up in Boston,
under the command of General William Howe, the per
fidious Gage having sailed for England. The continental
army in the vicinity of Boston was rapidly decreasing by
the expiration of the short period for which the soldiers
had enlisted.* Although Congress had exerted ail its
energies to create a new army, still the recruiting service
went on , very slowly, and no active operations were at
tempted until the beginning of March, when„a threatened
bombardment, from the heights oi Dorchester,f compelled
* At the close of the year 1775, the continental army near Boston, was
reduced to a very critical situation, being obligtd to substitute new raised
troops and militia, in the place of those who bad been in service five or
six months ; and this exchange was made within musket-shot of the
enemy's lines. During part of this period, their numbers were not suffi
cient to man tbe lines, nor was there powder enough in camp to furnish
four rounds a man ! They had only four small brass cannon, and. a few
old honey-comb iron pieces, with their trunnions broken off; and these
were ingeniously bedded in timbers, in the same manner as that of stock
ing a musket. These machines were extremely unwieldy and inconve
nient, requiring much skill and labour to elevate and depress them. Had .
the eiiemy in Boston been made acquainted'^ with the situation of their
besiegers, the consequences might have been unpleasant.— TAocAer't
Journal. t See Appendix, No. IV.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 47
General Howe to evacuate Boston, and thus relieved the
suffering inhabitants from their distress and privations.*
The British army was hastily embarked on board the
ships and transposts then lying in the harbour, together
with a host of toriei and refugees, who claimed the protec
tion of General Howe, and abandoned their bleeding
country. The fleet proceeded to Halifax, where the ;
loyal fugitives were landed, and where Howe determined
to remain, until the arrival of his brother from England,
with the expected reinforcements, should enable him to
pursue the war with vigour.
Immediately after this joyful event, Washington sent on
the continental army, in detachments, to New-York ; and
as soon as he had made some necessary arrangements for
the future defence of the eastern states, he hastened on
himself, and made every possible preparation for thp re
ception of the expected enemy, who did not arrive at
Sandy Hook until the 29th of June.
After waiting, at Halifax, two or three months, for the
arrival of his brother Lord Howe, with his " motley mer
cenaries from Hesse, Hanover, and Brunswick," Sir Wil-
* The distresses of the inhabitants of Boston, during the memorable
winter Of 1775-6, exceed description. They had been promised permis
sion to leave the town, if they would deliver up their arms, which were
accordingly deposited in Faneul-Hall, to the care of the select-men. But
no sooner were the citizens completely disarmed, than Gage violated his
agreement, and refused to let them depart. Nor was General Howe, his
successor, any more lenient ; for he issued a proclamation, prohibiting
all persons attempting to quit the town, without a written license, on
penalty of military execution; and, if they escaped, they were to be pro-
ceedeS against as traitors, and their effects to be forfeited. The conse
quences may be easily conceived. That ill-fated town was a scene of
famine and distress. The inhabitants were almost in a state of starvation,
for the want of food and fuel. Totally destitute of vegetables, flour, and
fresh provisions, they were^actually obliged to feed on horse-flesh ; while
the pews of churches, old houses, and timbered wharves, were demolished
for fuel. — Thacher^s Jq/frnal.

4« THE SPY unmasked; oR
liam became impatient of delay, and set sail for New-York,-
accompanied by Admiral Shuldham. Here, however, he
found the continental army so strongly posted on Long
Island and the island of New- York, that he didnot.imme-
diately attempt any thing of consequence ; but landed his
troops at Staten Island, and there awaited the arrival of
his brother.
In the mean time, the declaration of Indep.endence
was adopted by Congress, and published to the nation, —
Pour days after its passage, it was read to the army at
New- York, by whom it was received with the most enthu
siastic demonstrations of joy. A leaden statue of his
Majesty George III. was immediately thrown down, and
run into bullets, for the reception of Lord Howe, and his
host of mercenaries, who arrived, four days afterwards,
witfi a formidable squadron.
After amusing, or rather insulting, the American
government with an inadmissible proposition of reconcilia
tion, the enemy made preparations to act with vigour. —
Having been joined by " the repulsed troops from the
southward,* and the broken squadron under the command
of Sir Peter Parker ; by a regiment from St. Augustine,
and another from Pensacola ; also, by a few troops from
St. Vincents, some small additions from other posts, and a
considerable party of tories from New- Jersey, and from
the environs of Philadelphia and New-York, which, by
great industry, had been collected and embodied by Go
vernor Tryon," the whole hostile army crossed the chan
nel, and landed on Long Island, where they were posted,
in detachments, on the south side, from one end of the
islapd to the other ; separated from the American army
by a ridge of hills covered with woods.
Tryon, it will be recollected, was the last governor
* See first note, in Chapter VIH.

M12M01RS OP ENOCH CROSUY. 4'9
who presided at New-York, under the crown of England.
He had formerly been governor of North Carolina, wherehis
severities had rendered his very name universally detested.
He, of course, entered with great zeal into all the mea
sures of the British government ; and endeavoured with
art, influence, and intrigue, (of which he was perfect
master,) to induce the city of New-York, and the inhabit
ants under his government, to submit quietly, and not
unite with the other colonies in their plans of opposition!
Failing in this purpose, and becoming apprehensive for
his own personal safety, he left the seat of government,
and put himself at the head of a body of tories, whom he
assisted in butchering their fellow-countrymen, and com
mitting the most shocking enormities on the defenceless
inhabitants of New-Jersey, and wherever else he could
penetrate. He constantly held out such flattering induce
ments for these wretches to join him, that scarcely a day
passed without his receiving recruits from some quarter.
At this period, the " Committee of Safety" for the
colony of New- York, consisted of Messrs. Jay,* Piatt,
Duer, and Sackett ; gentlemen who have since held con^
spicuous situations in the government of their emancipated
country. It, of course, became the policy of this com
mittee to counteract, as far as in them lay, the arts and
intrigues of the wily Tryon. For this purpose, they
exercised the utmost vigilance to prevent the tories from
joining the standard of the enemy ; and felt perfectly jus
tified in resorting to coercive measures to effect this desi
rable object. In fact, so daring had become their oppo
sition and outrages, that any lenity extended towards them
would have been cruelty to the friends of liberty, as the
following facts will amply demonstrate.
A gang of these unprincipled wretches, who bad asso
ciated in New- York for the purpose of joining the British
7

50 THE SPY UN 4f A SKEW i OR
army, had even concerted a plan to assassinate Washing
ton, and some other officers ; and, while our army was
engaged with the enemy, to blow up the magazines. The
mayor of the city, and an armourer who was employed in
making rifles for the tories, together with several others,
were taken into custody, and committed to prison. The
mayor, on examination, confessed that he had received
money from Tryon to pay the armourer for the rifles.-f-^
Two of Washington's body-guards were confederates in
this nefarious scheme ; but a third, to whom the secret
was confided, honestly disclosed the information. Several
of these miscreants were tried and convicted, and two or
three were executed.
About the same time, a similar plot was brought to
light in Albany by the confession of two tories. Their
plan was to set the city on fire, and blow up the magazine.
In consequence of this premature exposal, some of tbe
conspirators were apprehended, and the meditated plot
frustrated.* But the most dangerous and culpable of these internal
enemies, were those who had the effrontery and address
to pass themselves off for whigs. One of these was Dr.
Benjamin Church, who had long sustained a high repu
tation as a patriot and a son of liberty. He had been a
member of the house of representatives of Massachusetts,
and was afterwards appointed surgeon general, and di
rector of the hospitals. Previous to the evacuation of
Boston, however, he was detected in a traitorous corres
pondence with the enemy ; tried, convicted, and expelled
from the house of representatives, and ordered to be
"closely confined in some secure jail in Connecticut,
without the use of pen, ink, or paper ; and that no person
be allowed to converse with him, except in thq presence"
* See Thacher's Jonrnnl. n. ra

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CR03BY. Si
and hearing of a magistrate, or the sheriff of the county."
After all this, however, he was finally permitted to depart
from the country. He and his family embarked for the
West Indies ; but the vessel foundered at sea, and all
were lost.*
A man by the name of Ledwitz, who, by his own soli-||
citation, had been appointed Lieutenant-colonel in tbei"
continental army, was also detected in a traitorous corres
pondence with the infamous, Tryon. He intrusted his
letter to one Steen, an honest German, to be conveyed to
New-York ; but, considering it his duty to expose the
perfidy, the messenger delivered it to Washington. By
this criminal act the perfidious Wretch had forfeited his
life, according to the articles of war ; but, on his trial by
a court-martial, his life was saved by the casting vote of
a militia officer, who pretended some scruples of conscience !
He was, however, caehiefed, and declared incapable of
holding any militafy office in the American service. f
But it is unnecessary to multiply instances. Enough
has been said to show that the tories were the most insi
dious, virulent, and implacable enemies, with which the
friends of liberty had to contend in the fearful struggle
which secured the independence of these United States.
Internal secret enemies are always moie dangerous than
open aVowed foes in the field ; and it ought to be consi
dered as a signal and remarkable interposition of divine
Providence, that their vile machinations were so frequently
defeated. But Providence always operates by instru
ments ; and among the most efficient, patriotic, disinte
rested, and successful agents, in Counteracting the medi
tated treachery and machinations of internal secret ene
mies, was Enoch Crosby ; as will be sufficiently shown in
ithe following pages.
* See Tha«*e»:'s Jdurnal, p. 38. t Ibid. p. 64.

52 If HE SPY UNMASKED ; OR

CHAPTER V.
SECRET SERVICES.
What is it that yon would impart to me ?
If it be aught toward the general good.
Set honour in one eye, and death i'the other,
And I will look on both indifferently :
For let the gods so speed me, as I love
The name of honour more than I fear death. Sh^sspbare,
Thk unfortunate battle of Long-Island, the consequent
retreat of the American army, and the subsequent occu
pation of the city of New-York by the British, under Ge
neral Howe, are events familiar to every reader. The
first occurred on the 27th of August, 1776, and the last
on the 15th of the following month. The affair at Kipp's
Bay,* the contest at Harlaem Heights, and the landing
of the enemy at Throg's Neck, in Westchester county,
followed each other in rapid succession, and excited the
most lively interest throughout the country.
It was during the occurrence of these important trans
actions, that Crosby determined to rejoin the standard of
his country. Several months' repose had recruited his
health and strength after the fatigue and sufferings of his
northern expedition. He was now in the twenty-seventh
year of his age, with every personal and mental qualifica
tion requisite for acts of enterprise, hazard, and address,
In height, he was nearly six feet, with broad shoulders,
full chest, and a liberal share of bone and muscle, but not
a superabundance of flesh, f Active, athletic, and inured
* Sec Chapter VI. third paragraph,
T " In person, the pedlar was a man above the middle height ; spare,.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 53
to hardships, he determined no longer to indulge in inglo
rious ease, while his brave countrymen were in arms in
defence of their rights and liberties, and while persons of
every age, sex, and condition, were cheerfully submitting
to unexampled privations, for the sake of political free
dom.* He, therefore, resumed his knapsack, shouldered,;
his musket, and, once more bidding adieu to the rural
scenes of Kent, he bent his course towards the head
quarters of the Ami'iican army.
It was towards the close of a warm day, in the month
of September, 1776, that he reached a wild and romantic
ravine, in the county of Westchester.| Here he fell in
with a gentleman, who appeared to be travelling in the
same direction, and with whom be soon entered into fa
miliar conversation. Among oiber questiois, the stranger
inquired, if Crosby was g' ing " down below V — to which
he'Teadily answered in the affirmative. The interrogator
appeared pleased with this reply, and let fell some expres-
sioris which plainly indicated that he had " mistaken his
man," supposing Crosby to be a loyalist, on his way to
join the British army. The latter instantly perceived the
advantage which might be derived from this mistake, and
but full of bone and muscle. His eyes were gray, — sunken, restless ;
and, for tbe few moments that thej dwelt on the countenances of those
with whom he conversed, seemed to read the very soul." — Spy, Vol. i.
p. 34.* See Appendix, No, V. ''
¦f Westchester county is situated on the east side of t^ Hudson, ipi-
mediately above York Island. It is juined to PutnaM|i!!bunty on the
north, and Connecticut on the east ; comprising about four hundred and
eighty square miles. It enjoys a direct communication with the Hudson
on the west, and with the Sound on the southeast. Its surface, in some
parts, is rugged and mountainous ; in others, beautifully undulating, and
Ipxuriantlv fertile : the whole well watered, and diversified with scenery
that is truly picturesque and romantic. The centre of this county, lying
between the two hostile armies, during the revolutionary war, was called
the " Neotrai. Ground."

M THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
suffered his new companion to remain under the errone
ous impression,
« Are you not aware," said the stranger, " that it is
somewhat hatat^ous to go down alone 1 The rebels are
on the alert, and you may meet with obstacles that will
not be vety pleasant."
" Indeed !" returned Crosby, with much affected con
cern. "What course would you then advise me to
pursue V
" I will tell you, sir, I reside but a short distance from
' 'hence ; go with me, and make my house youf home for
a few days, when you can go down with a company that
is now forming for that purpose,"
" That is, indeed, a most fortunate circumstance," re
plied Crosby';' " and I accept tbe hospitable invitation
with as much cordiality as it appears to have been given.
This arrangement will relieve my mind from a load q£
anxiety, and I shall feel myself under a weight of obliga
tion to y9u."
" Not at all, sir ; it is a pleasure to serve those who,
in these trying times, retain their integrity, and remain
faithful to his majesty. 1 am happy to know that many
of my neighbours are of this class ; and though the vigi
lance of Jay, Duer, Piatt, Sackett, and their deluded ifl'^
struments, compel my friends to be very circumspect ill
their movements, there is no doubt of their being able to
complete their arrangements, and reaching the army
without Molestation. They will very gladly receive you
as a memberi^and in their company you will be perfectly
safe." " I have no doubt of it," returned Crosby ; « and am
impatit-nt to be introduced to their acquaintance."
" Yonder is my residence ; and you .need refreshment
and repose. Rest yourself to-night, and in the morning
your wish shall be gratified."

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. bO
Crosby readily acceded to this proposal, and followed
hi^new acquaintance .into a small enclosure that led to a
neat farm-house at a short distance from the road. Here
he was received with a cordial welcome, and furnished
with gueh refreshments as his situation required. After
supper, the evening was spent in conversing on a variety
of subjects, that naturally grew out of the critical state of
the times at that period ; such as may easily be imagined
to bftve passed between a covert whig, anxious to obtain
intelligence, and a real tory, who had no suspicion of the
(Character of bis guest.
Having had a comfortable night's rest, and a substan
tial breakfast, Crosby reminded the host of hia promise to
introducf ^im to such of his neighbours as were faithful
to the royal cause ; particularly those who were about
iovmrng a company to join the British army.
« I am anxious," said he, "to become acquainted with
the agents, before I join in the enterprise. It is not every
man of fair professions that can be safely trusted. I like
t© §ee and judge for myself."
The reasonableness of this request induced his kind
entertainer to comply with it without delay. Crosby was
accordingly introduced to a number of persons, on many
of whom the shadow of suspicion had never before lighted,
tbeyjiaving ever professed to be warm adherents of the
Aroeriean cause. Every one received him with cordiality,
and conversed on political subjects without the least dis
guise or restraint, so completely had they been thrown off
their guard by their confidence in the person who had
recommended him. He found the whole of them to be
most inveterate and virulent in their hostility to the friends
of liberty, and was convinced that he could not render a
greater service tg his bleeding country, than by counter
acting the machinatiftns of her most dangerous (because
most secret and insidious) foes.

56 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
Accordingly, at the expiration of three days, during
which time he had made himself master of all the infor
mation in their power to communicate, (and some of them
held secret correspondence with the enemy,) he told his
host, that he felt too impatient to join the army, to wait
any longer the dilatory movements of this company. He
was, therefore, resolved to proceed alone, and to trust to
fortune arid his own address for protection. After vainly
exhausting every argument to dissuade his guest from so
hazardous a project, the other finally consented, and
Crosby resumed his knapsack and musket, took leave of
his entertainer, and was soon out of sight on the road to
New-York. In this direction, however, he did not travel long ; but
took advantage of an abrupt angle in the road, to change
his course ; when, leaving the highway, he plunged into a
thicket, and pursued his way, through a pathless tract of
country, in a northwestern direction.
He had heard of a Mr. Young, who resided within eight
miles from White Plains, and knew him, from reputation,
to be a warm friend to the American cause. With him,
therefore, he determined to consult on the proper steps
to be taken with respect to the arrest of these traitors to
their country. Owing, however, to the circuitous route
he had adoptedi to avoid the observation of his late asso
ciates, night had set in before his journey was half accom
plished ; and it was with extreme difficulty, that he
" groped his darkling way'' through the wild and broken
region that lay between him and the object of his pursuit.
Hills were to be climbed, thickets penetrated, and streams
forded, before he could gain the road which was to con
duct him to the mansion of Mr. Young.
"All these difficulties, however, were at length happily
surmounted ; but it was near midnight when he reached
the end of his journey. Fortunately, the master of the

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSlii. 5/
house was still up and alone, his family having all retired.
Crosby was a stranger, and the hour unseasonable ; but
such circumstances were not unusual in those " stirring
times." He was promptly admitted, and politely invited
to take a seat ; when Mr. Young, fixing oh him a search
ing gaze, (as if anxious to penetrate into the secret, re
cesses of his heart, and there to read his real character,)
intimated that he was ready to learn the purport of his
untimely visit.
Crosby was aware that the inhabitants' in that section
of the country,-hadlost much of their former confidence
in each other, and knew not whom to trust ; he, there
fore, hastened to explain the object of Ms intrusion, and
i relieve his host from the evident embarrassment his suspi
cions had created.*
" I understand, sir," said Crosby, " that you are a friend
to the ' upper party.'f Give me leaye to ask if I have
been correctly informed ? Is it true ?"
" Yes, sir," promptly replied the other ; " it is true. 1
am a friend to my country^; and am not afraid or ashamed
to avovV it, to friend or foe."
" I have always understood, sir, that such was your
character, and rejoice to find that I am not deceived. —
Under this impression, I have taken the liberty to wait on
you, for the purpose of communicating information that
may prove beneficial to the American cause."
* "The county of Westchester, after the British had obtained posses
sion of the Island of New- York, became common ground, in which both
parties continued to act for the remainjler of the war of the revolution. A
large proportion of its inhabitants, either restrained by their attachments,
or influenced by their fears, affected a neutrality they did not; always feel."
: Spy, Vol. i. p. 2.
t As respects location, the Americans were always the " upper" jpirty,
in the vicinity of New-York ; for while they retained possgjsion of the
city, the British were still below them, at Staten Island. The samercla-
tive position continued on their retreat through the county of Westchester.

5S THE SPY UNMASKED ; OK
" Go on, sir," returned the host, in a tone bordering onf
sternness, and without relaxing his features. " Proceed ;
I am ajl attention.''
" Do you know, sir, that there are traitors around you t
— that even some of your neighbours are secretly con
certing plan* to assist the common' enemy in plnndeiing
and butchering their own brethren and fellow-couBtry-
men ?"
" I am well aware," returned Young, with a sigh, « that
there are too many who feel secretly disposed to aid the
cause of the enemy. But they dare not openly avow it."
" That is true, sir."
« O, that I knew them !" continued the host, with in
creasing' animation, as he rose from his seat. " 0, that
I could designate them — point them out — name them W-
They should soon be linked together by closer and
stronger ties than those which now connect them."
" Then, sir," replied Crosby, with confidence, rising on
his feet, and approaching the other, " I havti news that
will interest you. I have jus^eft a company oi these
wretches, after having spent three days with them, and
know all their plans. Their intention is to join the « lower
party,' with whom they now hold a secret correspond«>nce,
and raise their parricidal hands against their bleeding
country." " Is it possible !"
" It is most true, sir. I know them all — have visited
their families — attended their secret meetings — assisted
them in maturing their nefarious plans."
" Indeed ! Then you yourself  "
" Understand me," interrupted Crosby. " I haye
levelled this musket too often at the open and avowed
enemies of my country, to be on terms of intimacy with
her secret foes, except for the purpose of discovering and
preventing their contemplated treachery."

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 59
Mere Crosby gave a particular detail of the circum-
stanoes connected With his introduction to the members of
this hopeful confederacy; particulars with which the
reader is already acquainted ; and, as he proceeded, the
countenance of his auditor gradually brightened . As soon
as he had finished, the latter seized him eagerly by the
hand ; and, with sparkling eyes, exclaimed —
" Is this true, upon the honour of a man 1"
" It is true, by Heaven I" returned the other ; " and
if you will assist me with your advice and co-operation,
eight-and-forty hours shall not elapse until you are con-
vin9ed by the testimony of your own eyes."
" Come on, then, my, good fellow !" exclaimed Young,
^ seizing his hat. " The Committee of Safety are at White
Plains, and thither We must proceed immediately. Follow
me quickly, and I will be your pilot."
Crosby was not backward in complying with this in-
jUnctiOnj though already much fatigued by his recent
jpurney ; but promptly followed his hasty guide, on this
midnight excursion. Fences, rocks, and streams, were
but s%ht impediments " To hearts resolved, and limbs inured to toil,"
and, before two o'clock, they found themselves at the end
of their -journey, in the village of White Plains, and in
presence of the honourable John Jay, one of the most
vigilant of these watchful guardians of the public safety.
This gentleman being made acquainted with the fore
going particulars, dismissed his informants with a request
that they would remain near at hand, for further instruc
tions, as he intended, at early dawn, to convene the com-
. mittee, and hold a consultation on the important subject.
Were we writing a romance, instead of an authentic
narrative of events which actually occurred, and could we

*•¦

tiO THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
command the descriptive pen of our inimitable Cooper,
here would be the place to introduce a series of incidents
which attended, (or might have attended,) the subsequent
movements of our two nocturnal adventurers.- Their
difficulty in procuring comfortable quarters for the re
mainder of the night ; a description of the village inn,
where they finally succeeded in rousing the lazy landlorfl
from his slumbers ; the motley group which lay snoring
on the floor of the bar-room ; a portraiture of the florid-
faced landlady, and the various incidents resulting from
this unexpected interruption of her arrangements for the
night, would, all together, form sufficient materials for an
interesting qhapter. But as nothing of the kind has been
promised in our title-page, the reader must rest contented
with a plain unadorned narrative of such facts as our hero
can actually remember at the advanced age of seventy-:
eight. The committee were convened at an early hour on the
following morning, when Crosby was summoned before
them, to recapitulate the particulars of his recent adven
ture. After hearing his statement, and consulting on the
most proper steps to be taken in the business, Crosby was
requested to hold himself in readiness to accompany a
detachment of Rangers,* (on the ensuing night,) to the
place where his recent associates were in the habit of
holding their secret cabals.
The enterprise was crowned with complete success.
Without dreaming of molestation, these vile conspirators
found themselves suddenly surrounded by a troop of horse,
and compelled to surrender. Thus, in less time than our
hero had specified, his friend Young had the satisfaction
* These rangers were a company of mounted men, reserved expressly
for exigencies of this kind, whenever they should occur, and to go
wherever the Committee should direct.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBYl 61
' of seeing the whole cavalcade, linked together in pairs,
safely conducted to prison, to the tune of the " Rogue's
MarcL" *
The successful result of this enterprise^ induced the
committee to believe that the cause in which they had so
zealously embarked, might be highly promoted by enga
ging a person of Crosby's acuteness and address in similar
secret services. The proposition was accordingly made
to him Ey;|j^bnfidential interview.
" It was 'your intention," said the chairman, " again to
serve your country as a private in the ranks. Such a re
solution, in a person of your character and abilities, could
only have originated in motives of the purest patriotism.
But you must now be convinced that much greater ser
vices may be rendered by pursuing a different, though
certainly not a less hazardous, course. There is a suffi
cient number of brave fellows to repulse our open and
avowed enemy. The greatest danger which now threatens
this suffering country, is from her internal foes ; those
secret enemies who, in their midnight cabals, are plotting
our destruction. He who succeeds in bringing such
wretches to justice, deserves infinitely more of his country,
than he who fights her battles. Are you willing to en
gage in such service 1"
" I am willing to encounter any danger, and make any
sacrifice, (my honour only excepted,) in the service of
my country."
" It cannot be disguised that, in the service now pro
posed to you, even honour, in the general acceptation of
that term iihong men, must also be sacrificed ; but not so
in the eye of that Being who reads the secret thoughts of
the heart, and judges the motive instead of the act. He
will approve, though man may condemn."
" It is, indeed, a hazardous part you would have me
play. J must become a Spy." -^

62 THE ^PY UNMASKED ; OR
« In appearance only. Our bleeding country requires
such service at this momentous crisis. We must fight
our secret foes with their own weapons ; and he who
will magnanimously step forward as a volunteer in that
service, will merit a rich reward — and receive it, too, from
Heaven, if not from man. If he Ms, he falls a martyr
in the glorious cause of liberty."
" I will be that man," replied Crosby, with firmness, —
" I have counted the cost, and am aware of the dsHiger.
I know that I must be content to endure reproach, 6bloqUy,
and detestation ; to cover my poor doating parents vrith
shame and misery, and incur the hatred of those 1 dearest
love. Perhaps to suffer an ignominious death, and leave
a name of infamy behind. I know it all, and yet I vrill
not shrink from the task. I will encounter all — ^risk all-^
suffer all, if I can thereby serve my country. But there
is one condition  If I do fall in the discharge of this
duty, you must pledge yourselves to do justice to my
memory. It would be dreadful ' to die, and leare such a
name behind me."
" Of that rest assured," replied the chairman, not a
little affected by the solemn earnestness of this appeal ;
" but we hope and trust that the melancholy duty will not
be soon required at our hands. We will furnish you with
a pass for your protection ; but it must never be exhibited
save in the last extremity. Should you be arrested as an
emmissary of the enemy, you shall be secretly furnished
with the means of escape. But the secret of your real
character must go no farther. Y'our dearest friend must
not be intrusted with it."
After furnishing their new agent with every necessary
instruction, together with the promised pass, the com
mittee adjourned, and Crosby immediately set about
making arrangements for his new undertaking. His musket
was laid aside ; and instead of a knapsack, he furnished

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 63
himself with a large pedlar's pack,* containing a complete
set of shoemaker's tools. Thus equipped, he sallied forth
in quest of adventures. His ostensible object, (in order
to avoid suspicion,) was searching for employment ; or
what the sons of St. Crispin, at that period, terme4
" whipping the cat •" but, in more modern times, we be
lieve it is called " cutting a stick." Whatever be the
genuine classical appellation, however, we must leave our
intinerant to pursue his peregrinations in the interior of
Westchester county, while we take a peep at the army
below. * " Harvey Birch had been a pedlar from his youth ; at least, so hr
frequently asserted^"-— fi|ptr, Vol. i. p. ^l.

S4' THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR

CHAPTER VI.
THE SPY AND THE HAYSTACK.
" Our foes shall fall, with heedless feet,
Into the pit they made ;
' And tories perish in the net
Which their own hands have spread," .,
Immediately after the battle of Long Island, the re
treat of the Americans, and the barbarous execution of
the brave and unfortunate Hale,* the enemy made prompt
dispositions for attacking the city of New-York. It was
a serious question with Washington, whdjiier that place
was defensible against so formidable a " force ; it was
finally decided, however, in a council of war, that it had
become not only prudent, but necessary, to withdraw the
army, . Several of the enemy's ships of war having passed up
the Hudson, on the west side of York Island, and also up
the East river, on the opposite side. Sir Henry Clinton
embarked at Long Island, at the head of four thousand
men ; an^, proceeding through Newtown Bay, crossed the
East river, and landed, (under cover of five ships of war,)
at Kipp's Bay, about three miles above the city. Works
of considerable strength had been thrown up at this place,
to oppose the landing of the enemy ; but they were imme
diately abandoned by the troops stationed in them. Ter
rified at the fire of the ships, they fled precipitately towards
their main body, and communicated their panic to a de
tachment which was marching to their support.
Washington, to his extreme mortification, met this whole
* See Appendix, No. VI.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 65
party reti-eating in the utmost disorder, and exerted him
self to rally them ; but, on the appearance of a small
corps of the enemy, they again broke and fled in confu
sion ! The General, who was not only mortified and dis
tressed, but actually enraged at their cowardice, drew his
sword and snapped his pistols to check them ; but they
continued their flight without firing a gun !
For a moment, the feelings of Washington got the mas
tery of his reason. " Are these the men with which I am
to defend America I" exclaimed he, in a tone of bitterness,
as he gazed after the recreant fugitives ; then, turning his
horse's head to face the advancing enemy, he remained
for some minutes exposed to their fire, as if wishing, by
an honourable death, to escape the infamy he dreaded
from the dastardly conduct of troops on whom he could
place no dej^dence. His aids, arid the confidential
friends around his person, by indirect violence compelled
him to retire.
Nothing now remained but to withdraw the few remain
ing troops from New-York, and to secure the posts on the
heights. The retreat was effected with very inconsidera
ble loss of men ; but all the heavy artillery, and a large
portion of the baggage, provisions, and military stores,
were unavoidably abandoned.
Major- General Putnam, at the head of three thousand
five hundred continental troops, was in the rear of the
retreating army. In order to avoid any of ithe enemy
that might be advancing in the direct road to tbe city, he
made choice of a rout parallel with, and contiguous to,
the North river, till he could arrive at a certain angle,
whence another road would conduct him in such a direc
tion as that he might form a junction with the main army.
It so happened, that a body of about eight thousand
British and Hessians were, at the same moment, advan
cing on the road, which would have brought him in im-
9

66 THE ^en irNMASKED i OB
mediate contact with Putnam, before he could have reached
the turn into the other road.
Most fortunately, the British Gerierals, seeing no pros
pect of engaging the Americans, halted their own troops,
and repaired to the house of a Mr. Robert Murray, a
quaker, and a whig. Mrs. Murray treated them so hos
pitably with cake and wine, that they were induced to
tarry two hours or more, during which time Tryon was
frequently joking her about her American friends.
By this happy incident, Putnam escaped a rencontre
with a greatly superior force, which must have proved
fatal to his whole party, as one half hour would have been
Sufficient for the enemy to have secured the road at the
turn, and entirely cut ofi' Putnam's retreat. Dr. Thacher^;
in relating this circumstance, adds : " It h|s since become
almost a common saying, among our officers, that Mrs.
Murray saved this part of the American army."
The enemy immediately took possession of the city, for
the defence of which he left a suitable detachment, and
then advanced towards Harlaem, in pursuit of Washington.
The Americans now occupied Kingsbridge, at the north
western extremity of York Island, both sides of which had
been carefully fortified : they were also in considerable
force at M'Gowan's Pass, and Morris's Heights. A strong
detachment was also posted in an intrenched camp, on
the heights of Harlaem, within about a mile and a half of
the enemy.
On the day after the retreat from New- York, a consi
derable body of the enemy appearing in the plain between
the two camps, Washington ordered Colonel KnOwltoH,
with a corps of Rangers, under Captain Townsend, and
Major Leitch, with three companies of Virginians, to get
in their rear, while he amused them by making apparent
dispositions to attack them in front. The plan succeeded.
A skirmish ensued, in which the Americans charged the

MEJIOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 07
enemy with great intrepidity, and gained considerable ad-
vaotsge. KnowUon vf9^ killed, and Leitch badly wounded ; but
their men behaved with great bravery, and fairly beat their
adversaries from the field. Most of these were the same
men who had disgraced themselves the day before, by
running away from an inferior force. Struck with a
sense of shame for their late misbehaviour, th&y had offered
themselves as volunteers, and requested the commander-
in-»ehief to give them an opportunity to retrieve their
honour. In the mean time, Crosby was earnestly pursuing his
new vocation j travelling about the country ; and, with
his characteristic acuteness,* becoming '' all things to all
men," in order to elicit such information as would enable
the committee of safety to discriminate between their
real friends and their secret foes. Through his intimacy
with the latter, (who, of course, hailed him as a kindred
spirit,) he obtained regsular information of the movements
pf the enemy below, and privately transmitted the same
to bis employers.
As may readily be supposed, the committee, at this time,
were trembling for the safety of the American army ; and
tlieir well-grounded apprehensions were hourly increasing,
when a secret communication from their new agent in
formed them, that the contest on the heights of Hariaem
had fully retrieved the tarnished honour of tbe American
arms ; that their good conduct, at this second engage
ment, had proved an antidote to the poison of their ex
ample on the preceding day ; and demonstrated that
Americans only wanted resolution and good officers to
* " Harvey Birch possessed the common manners of the country, and
was in BO wjiy distinguisheii} fr^m men «f his cia?s, hut )>j his flcutepess—
and the mystery which enveloped his movements.— 5p!/> ^"^^ '• ?• 31.

68 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OK
be on an equal footing with their enemies. The com
mittee were thus inspired with hopes, that a little more
experience would enable their countrymen to assume,
not only the name and garb, but the spirit and firmness
of soldiers.
In one of Crosby's reconnoitring excursions, the ap
proach of evening, and some fatigue of body, reminded
him that it was time to look out for comfortable quarters
for the night. There was no public house of entertain
ment within several miles, and only a few poor farm
houses, thinly scattered, within the whole circumference
of his vision. To one of these, therefore, he determined
to apply, for supper and lodgings. He accordingly struck
off into a foot-path which led to the nearest ; and, bend
ing beneath the weight of his pack, advanced to the door,
and knocked for admittance.
A rosy -cheeked girl, of about fifteen, just budding into
maturity, of rustic appearance, and bashful demeanour,
at length appeared, with visible reluctance, to answer to
his summons. On being made acquainted with his wishes,
the timid maiden hesitated, stammered, and then suddenly
retreating ; saying, as she closed the door, " I will ask
mother, sir."
In a few minutes, however, she again made her appear
ance, and bade him walk in. He did not wait for a second
invitation ; but followed his fair conductor into an apart
ment that served at once the two-fold purpose of parlour
and kitchen. Here he repeated his request to a middle-
aged female, who sat in a corner of the capacious fire
place, very busily employed with her knitting-work.
" Lodging, did yOu say ?" exclaimed the good woman,
surveying her weary guest over the top of her spectacles.
" We don't keep lodgings, sir."
" I am very much fatigued, madam ; and would be

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 69
very grateful for permission to stay in your house till
morning." " O well, I don't know," returned the old woman,
rising from her seat, and approaching the stranger to exa-
mme him more particularly. " There 's some strange
works, now-a-days, and I don't like to keep any body for
fear of something. What, in mercy's name, is that great
bag there ?"
" That, Madam, is my shop. I am a shoemaker, by
trade, and am in search of work, with my shop upon my
back. Will you give me leave to dismount it 1"
" Well, I don't care if you stay long enough to make
our John a pair of shoes, for he is going over east, to see
some men that are going down to the army next week."
" Are they going to our army?'' asked Crosby, as he
disencumbered himself from his ponderous pack.*
" I 'spose you mean the lower army ; don't you, sir ?"
'« O, yes, madam ; certainly," answered Crosby, help
ing himself to a chair. " I mean the royal anriy, a large
detachment of which is now at Throg's Neck, The
rebel army has run away from York Island, and is now
moving towards White Plains. But Howe will soon
overhaul them, and give a good account of them, too, or
I miss my guess."
" Here, Sally ! — Where- are you 1 — Get this man some
thing to eat, for his good news ; and then see if the best
bed-room is put to rights, and make him as comfortable
as you can."
As a good loyalist, Crosby was now made welcome to
the best the house afforded. While he was thus refresh
ing himself, and chatting with his loquacious landlady,
* " At first sight his strength seemed unequal to manage the unwieldy
burden of. his pack; yet he threw it on and ofi" with great dexterity, and
with as much apparent ease as if it haid been feathers,"— S^m/, Vol. i. p. 34.

70 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
the good man of the house himself came home, to whom
she eageriy introduced her guest as a warm adherent of
his Majesty, and a sworn enemy to the rebels. This as
sertion was abundantly confirmed by the remarks of
Crosby himself, during a long and interesting conversation
on the subject of that wicked rebellion against the mother
country. In the course of this conversation, Crosby learned that
a company was forming, about three miles east of that
place, for the purpose of joining the British army. On
his intimating a desire to become a member of this corps,
his host readily agreed to introduce him to the Captain, in
the course of the following day. He then conducted his
guest to the best bed in the house ; and, wishing him a
pleasant night's repose, left him to his own meditations,
to dream of plots and counterplots, or any other subject
that fancy might c mjure up.
Whatever might have been the character of his dreams,
however, our adventurer arose the next morning com=-
pleteiy refreshed and invigorated ; and, after partaking of
a hearty breakiast, he accompanied his host to the resi
dence of the tory Captain before jmentioned. On being
introduced, by his attentive guide, as a loyalist, who was
desirous of serving his Majesty, Crosby was most cordially
received, and politely invited to stay to dinner, and> to
spend the remainder of the day and the coming night at
the Captain's house.
This invitation was readily accepted ; and, in the course
of the evening, Crosby was made acquainted with many
interesting particulars relative to the plans and intentions
of the Captain and his confederates.
On the following morning, at breakfast, the subject was
again introduced, when Crosby was asked if he was ready
to enter his name on the muster-roll.
" I have not yet entirely made up my mind," replied he.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 71
" Such a step will necessarily be attended with consider
able danger ; for, in case 1 should be taken by the Ame
ricans, and my name known, they would hang me as a
traitor." " Were there any solid grounds for such an apprehen
sion," replied the other, " you would only incur that risk
in common with us all. But tbe rebels dare not resort to
such extremities, for fear of a terrible retaliation."
" It may be so," returned Crosby. " But I think 1
should rather go down without entering my name on the
roll ; unless, indeed, I could first examine, and see if there
are any names of my acquaintance on it."
" That privilege shall be cheerfully granted you," said
the Captain, producing a long roll of signatures, and
handing the same to his visiter, who ran over them with a
satisfaction which he took good care to conceal ; for he
readily perceived, to use his own expression, that there
was a " fine haul for his net." After attentively examin
ing every name, he rolled up the list, with an air of dis
appointment ; saying, as he returned it to the Captain,
" I shall beg to be excused, sir. They are all strangers
to me ; and it is not impossible that this roll may one day
fall into the hands of the Americans. Besides, I can just
as well go down without enrolling my name."
" Well, sir," replied the Captain, " I have a safer way
yet, for those who are influenced by similar apprehensions
with yourself. I put five or six names on one slip of
paper, which I then conceal beneath a large stone in my
meadow. I have several such- deposits. Come along
with me, and say what you think of the plan."
So saying, he arose from the table, and, accompanied
by his guest, sallied out into a large meadow, at some dis
tance from the house. After visiting several spots where
these secret muster-rolls were deposited, he directed the

72 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OE
attention of his companion to a hay-stack of enormous
dimensions, and asked him what he thought of it.
" I think it would prove a great temptation to a rebel
foraging party," answered Crosby, after a short silence,
and with some covert humour which cost him an exertion
to conceal.-*
" It probably would," observed the other, " were such
parties abroad. But it would be difficult for the best
mathematician among them to determine its solid contents
by measuring its superficcs. It is a mystery worth pene
trating into. Let me instruct you."
With these words, the speaker lifted up the hay, on
one ai^e of the huge edifice, and discovered a small open
ing which led to the interior of the excavated pile. Fond
of adventure, Crosby entered without hesitation, and
found himself in a most ingenious hiding-place, of suffi
cient capacity to contain forty or fifty men, comfortably
seated. " What think you of that ?" asked the proprietor of the
hay, as his guest emerged from its interior. " Would the
rebels ever think of looking for you there V
" I think not," replied the other, with an inward
chuckle, as he surveyed the exterior of the premises very
attentively. " I should as soon think of searching for a
needle in a haymow."
The Captain smiled with much self-complacency at
this brief approval of his invention, and then renewed his
* "When engaged in his ordinary business, the intelligence of his face
appeared lively, active, and flexible, though uncommonly acute ; if the
conversation turned on the ordinary transactions of life, his air became
abstracted and restless ; but if, by chance, the revolution and the country
were the topic, his whole system seemed altered— all his faculties were
concentrated— he would listen for a great length of time without speaking,
and then would break silence by some light and jocular remarks, that
were too much at variance with his former manner, not to be afiectation,"
—Spy, Vol. i. p, 34.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. Hi
solicitations for Crosby to enroll his name. The latter,
however, still hesitated, but promised to give a defmitive
answer on the following day. With this assurance the
other remained satisfied, and the remainder of that day
was devoted to making further arrangements for the con
templated expedition.
Night soon returned, and Crosby was still the Captain's
guest. At the usual hour, he retired to his bed, where
he lay, listening attentively to every movement in the
house, until he felt perfectly assured that the family were
safely locked in the arms of sleep. When " every sound
was hushed, and all was still," he cautiously arose, dressed
himself, and stole out of the house, without giving any
alarm. Before midnight he was consulting with his em
ployers at White Plains.
Such arrangements were immediately adopted by the
Committee of Safety as were considered, by all parties,
appropriate to the emergency. Their informant ^hen took
his leave ; and, before daylight, was again snoring in his
bed, at the house of the loyal Captain.
On the following morning, he informed his entertainer
that he had made up his mind as to the subject of their
recent conversation. He was willing and anxious to be
come a member of the company ; and would hold himself
in readiness to march with them at a moment's warning ;
but should decline signing his name to the muster-roll
until they had safely arrived within the British lines. The
Captain appeared satisfied with this arrangement, and ex
pressed a hope that every thing would be prepared for
their departure on the following day,
" Would it not be advisable, then," asked Crosby, " to
call a general meeting of the company this evening ? —
There is much to do, and it is necessary that we act in
concert. When we are all together, our plans can be
better digested, as we shall have the opinion and advice
10

74 * THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
of each individual. Such a meeting is indispensable be
fore we go down, and there is certainly no time to be lost.'?
" The idea is a good one," replied the Captain ; " and
,e^y man shall be notified to meet here this evening,
^^fen we will complete our arrangements, and be off to
morrow. You must assist me in calling them together.'?
Crosby readily consented to exert himself on this occa
sion ; and went about the business with such cheerful
alacrity, that, before nine o'clock in the evening, the whole
company were assemble^ in the Captain's parlour, with
the exception of the lieutenant, who had gone from home
on some temporary business.
By ten o'clock the business of the meeting was nearly
,all completed ; and the usual refreshments were about
being introduced, when the attention of the party was
suddenly arrested by the loud trampling of horses.
The lights were instantly extinguished ; and they all
sat in breathless silence ; every heart palpitating with
fearful anticipations of some unpleasant adventure, until
they were aroused to action by a voice at the door ex
claiming —
" Surrender ! or you are all dead men !"
At that instant the door was thrown from its hinges,
and the apartment was filled with the American Rangers,
all heavily armed.
" Surrender ! I demand it in the name of the conti
nental congress !" exclaimed the leader of these unwel
come intruders. " Resistance is useless, and escape im
possible, for the house is surrounded. You are our pri
soners." Words are inadequate to depict the general consterna
tion produced by this alarming salutation. Some flew to
the attic ; others retreated as precipitately to the cellar ;
and all most devoutly wished themselves in the bowels of
the hay-stack, as there was nothing to hope from the*

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 75
bowels of their captors. Several attempted to throw
themselves from the windows ; but were soon convinced
that there was no chance for escape in that direction. —
The secret, but unsuspected cause of all this confusion
and dismay, made a feint of concealing himself in a closet ;
but was quickly dragged forth, and compelled to share the
fate of his companions, who were manacled in pairs, and
marched, like felons, to the village of White Plains.

1^ THi^ SPY UNMASKED ; OK

CHAPTER Vli.

THE ESCAPE.

-To be the mark

Of smoky muskets ! O you leaden messengers.
That ride upon the violent speed of fire.
Fly with false aim.  Shak9FGAR£.
*rHE historic events connected with the name of White
Plains, will long live in the pages of American history ^^
and if the reader have patience to accompany us through'
a few more chapters, he will acknowledge that there is
sufficient cause for this lasting celebrity. At present, we
merely wish to introduce him to the scene of so many im
portant transactions.
Bronx river, a beautiful stream of water that rises just
on the south line of Newcastle, in the county of West
chester, holds its course nearly due south to the village of
West Farms, from whence it empties into the East river,
between Morrissania and Throg's Neck,- A few miles
east of this stream, and nearly parallel with it, is another
called Mamaroneck creek, which empties into Long
Island Sound, near a village of the same name.
Between these two little rivers, and near the head of
the latter, is the township of White Plains, comprised in
an area of about eight and a half square miles ; with
Northcastle on the north, Harrison on the east, Scarsdale
on the south, and Greensburgh on the west. On a fine
plain, near the centre of the town, stands the flourishing
little village, of the same name, which has been the theatre
of so many revolutionary incidents. The reader will re-

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY, 77
collect that we left our prisoners on the march to this
place, under a strongs escort of Townsend's Rangers.
On arriving at the village, where the Committee of
Safety were still in session, awaiting the result of the en
terprise, each of the prisoners underwent a partial exami
nation, which resulted in their being ordered to FiShkill,
there to await a more formal investigation. Our hero
was privately reminded that he must still continue to sup
port the character he had assumed, until his arrival at
their place of destination, when some means should be
provided by which he might effect his escape, without
awakening any suspicions as to his real character.
On the following morning, the whole party resumed
their journey, in the same order as before. After a march
of about twenty-five miles, they arrived at Peekskill, a
small village on the eastern bank of the Hudson, where
they took boats, and crossed the river to Fort Montgo
mery,* Here the prisoners were permitted to remain a
short time, for rest and refreshment. And here our hero
encountered the most distressing incident that he had ever
yet experienced.
On entering the fortress, the first person he recognised
was his former tutor, the worthy gentleman of whom a
hrief notice was taken at the conclusion of our first chap
ter. The recognition was mutual ; but the circumstances
under which the meeting took place, rendered it pecu
liarly painful to both parties.
The worthy preceptor started with terror and astonish
ment, on beholding his favourite pupil, the son of his
dearest friend, manacled like a felon, and dragged te
prison, with a gang of unprmcipled wretches, under the
? " This fort was tolerably situated on the western bank of the Hudson,
to annoy shipping going up the river ; the works were pretty good on
that side, but were not so, nor fully completed on the back side."— Heal/i'e
Memoirs o. 129.

78 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
ignominious charge of treason to their country ! He
gazed for a moriient, as if unwilling to believe his senses ;
then, advancing to tbe prisoner, and seizing him by the
hand, he exclaimed, with an emotion that it was impos
sible to conceal,
" Enoch Crosby ! — It cannot be possible ! — Explain
this horrid mystery ! — How is it that I see you in this
situation 1"
Crosby instinctively returned the friendly pressure of
his tutor's hand ; then casting his eyes on the ground, he
meekly replied,
" You see me as I am. I have no explanation to offer."
" Good God ! Is it then true that you have turned
traitor to your country, and are now a prisoner to her
brave defenders 1 It cannot be. There must be some
dreadful mistake. Speak, and relieve me from this fearful
suspense. Have you been concerned in the secret plots
for which these men are now in custody ?"
" Were it not so," replied Crosby, with a slight tremor
in his voice, " we should both have been spared the pain
of this interview,"
" O, who shall tell your poor old father this !" exclaimed
the other, dropping his pupil's hand, and clasping both his
own together in agony, while the big tears coursed each
other down his furrowed cheeks. " What will be the feel
ings of your doating parents, when they learn that the son to
whom they looked as the pride and prop of their declining
age, has proved unworthy of the care and affection which
have been so freely lavished upon him ! That he has
forgotten the precepts of his father — the lessons of his
teacher—and is a convicted traitor to his country ! The
news will break their hearts."
For the first time, Crosby now felt the full weight of
the cross to which he had voluntarily lent his shoulder.
He felt — and it almost crushed him. But it was too late

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY." 79
to recede ; he had put his hand to the plough, and dared
not look back. With a groan of anguish, he lifted up his
^manly form beneath the load., The effort was desperate,
but it was successful.
* « Spare me," he faintly articulated, as he brushed a
truant tear from his eye, and turned to accompany his
fellow-captives to their quarters. "There is one* who
knows — who judges— who approves. He will comfort
my parents. Farewell."
So saying, he departed with the rest, leaving his good
old tutor to lament an apostacy as unexpected and inex
plicable as it was mortifying and distressing. The old
gentleman immediately despatched a letter to the elder
Crosby, in which he communicated the afflicting intelli
gence with as much caution, delicacy, and gentleness, as
possible. It was a blow for which the parents were not
prepared ; but it is not our province to pourtray their
feelings on the occasion. We must accompany the son.
From Fort Montgomery, th% prisoners were again em
barked, and proceeded up the rive^through the lofty and
sublime scenery of the Highlands, and between those
Herculean pillars of the Western world, which are sup
posed to have been once united in an adamantine barrier
across the present course of the majestic Hudson. Leav
ing West Point and Butter-Hill on the left, and the Col-
lossean break-neck,* St. Anthony, on the right, a beauti
ful champaign country opened at once upon their view.
Here the pleasant villages of New- Windsor, Newburgh,
and Fishkill, with the smiling landscapes beyond them,
presented a charming contrast to the rude scenery which
our voyagers had just left behind them.
On reaching the mouth of Fishkill creek, on the east
side of the Hudson, nearly opposite Newburgh, the prir
* See 4th note in Chapter IX.

SO THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR ^' ^i,
soners were landed ; and from thence proceeded on foot,
under their former escort, along the delightful valley, then
thickly studded with trees, through which that stream
pursues its sinuous course to the river. A march of five
miles brought them to the beautiful little village which
was to terminate their journey.
Here the captive loyalists were committed to prison ;
or, rather, conducted to church, for siich was the edifice
which the peculiar circumstances of the times had con
verted into a strong hold for the safe keeping of prisoaers
of war. It was a low antiquated building, in the Dutch
style of architecture, with enormous thick walls of rough
stone, pierced with two rows of arched windows. The
main building was an oblong square, with a square tower
attached to the eastern i^tremity, from the top of which
arose a modest Gothic steeple, surmounted by a ball and
weathercock. The principal entrance was in the centre
of the south side, fronting the road which led from the
village to the river, *
Instead of the sepulchral yew, with which roms^e^
invariably embellished such consecrated ground, a num
ber of luxuriant willows here cast a melancholy shade
among the rustic memorials of deputed worth. Here; it
was that little groupes of villagers, were wont to assemble
on a Sabbath morning ; and, while they awaited the. ap
pearance of their pious clergyman^ reverently discuss the
local news and politics of the day.
But, alas ! even the hallowed rites of the sanctuary'
must sometimes give place to the blighting footsteps of
ruthless war ! That roof which had so oftep resounded
with the language of " peace, imd good will ^ man," was
now re-echoing with the curses of disappointed malevo
lence. The stone church had become a prison, as lis
more humble neighbour, (a wooden church without a
steeple,) had, for similar reasons, been converted into a

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 81
hospital, for the sick and wounded. If this be sacrilege,
of what was that British General guilty, who prostituted
an elegant church in Boston to the purposes of a stable !
But this is digression. Our present business is at Fishkill.
This pleasant littie village, (situated in a township of
the same name,) is in the county of Dutchess, north of
the Highlands, and about five miles east from the Hudson.
It consists of a handsome collection of neat white farm
houses, with here and there a mansion of more ample
dimensions and showy exterior. These buildings are
principally erected on a semi-circular street, a little north
of a corresponding bend in the stream before mentioned ;
and in the midst of them, on a. little plain, are the two
churches, rising with modest dignity above the elevation
of the humbler mansions around them.
The first appearance of this village, in approaching it
from the south, is picturesque in the extreme. After
toiling, for fifteen miles, among the rugged hills and
shapeless rocks, between which the road winds its serpen
tine course ; when there appears no prospect of a speedy
termination to the traveller's fatigue ; and when his im
patience begins to" despair of relief ; at that moment, the
village and plains of Fishkill suddenly open upon his view
with the effect of enchantment, affording an ample com
pensation for all his previous anxiety and perplexity.
Although this is the oldest village in the county of
Dutchess, it. was but thinly populated at the time of which
we are writing. The Marquis de Chateleux, who visited
it four years afterwards, when it had become the principal
depot of the American army, says, " There are not more
than fifty houses in the space of two miles." He adds,
however, that the American magazines, hospitals, work
shops, &c. " form a little town of themselves, composed
of handsome large barracks, built in the wood at the foot
of the mountains." It is well known, that Fishkill pos-
11

S2 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
sessed all the qualities necessary for a place of military
depot, at this critical period ; being situated on the high
road from Connecticut, near the river, and West Point,
that " Gibraltar of America ;" and protected, at the same
time, by a chain of inaccessible mountains, which occupy
a space of more than twenty mUes between the Croton
river and that of Fishkill.
But whatever local advantages, or rural charms, this
village might have boasted in the year 1776, they were all
lost on the wretched inmates of the stone church. The
Committee of Safety had arrived from White Plains, and
were now in session, at a farm-house within a few rods of
their prison. Thither were the newly-arrived captives
conducted, one by one, to undei^o a second private exa
mination. The muster-roll, and other papers, found on
the person of their leader, were considered as a sufficient
testimony of their traitorous intentions ; they were, there-
fore, remanded to prison to await a more formal investi
gation before a competent tribunal.
' Crosby, in his turn, was also placed at the bar of this
military inquisition. On entering the apartment where
his employers were seated in all that magisterial dignity
which surrounds, or is supposed to surround, the stem
arbiters of life and death, he affected such extreme reluc
tance to advance, as rendered it necessary for the officer
in attendance to compel him to proceed. With clanking
chains, and an aspect of vacant despair, he at length ap
proached the awful bar, and tremblingly awaited the
pleasure of his judges. A lurking smije was visible in
each of their visages ; but the prisoner appeared to be too
much agitated with terror to observe it.
As soon as the officer had resumed his station on the
outside of the door, however, and Crosby was left alone
with the Committee, the characters were changed ; for
they at once lost the gravity of judges, and laughed out-

.WEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBV. ti6
right at a scene which so nearly approached the ludicrous.
When their merriment had a little subsided, they highly
commended Crosby for the effective manner in which he
had performed his part, and the important service he had
thereby rendered to his country. They then consulted
with him on the best mode of making his escape ; and
requested him, when that was effected, to repair, with all
possible diligence, to Wappinger's Creek, and call upon
Mr. *****j vvho would furnish him with further instruc
tions, as " there was business for him on the other side the
Hudson." Crosby signified his readiness to continue in this hazard
ous and disreputable service ; but suggested the propriety
of his assuming a different name, in order to prosecute it
with greater effect. The Committee approved the idea,
and it was finally understood between them, that all com
munications from their secret agent would, in future, bear
the signature of "John Smith."
As soon as these prefiminaries were all duly adjusted,
the Committee resumed their former stern deportment,
and Crosby his fictitious character. The officer re-entered,
and, in obedience to orders, led his trembling prisoner
back to the church.
On the approach of night, a competent number of sol
diers were detailed for the prison guard, some of whom
were stationed in the basement of the tower, to guard the
eastern entrance of the building. On the outside, four
armed sentinels were posted in as many different positions,
corresponding to the four cardinal points of the compass.
The remainder of the little force then in the village were
in barracks, at a short distance from the church.
In entering and leaving his prison, Crosby had hastily
reconnoitred the premises without ; and after his attend
ance on the Committee, he lost no time in making his
observatioiis within. He soon ascertained that there was

84 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
only one avenue through which an escape could be at
tempted with the least probability of success ; and that
was a window at the extreme northwest comer, which
was partially obscured by the thick foliage of a large wil
low that grew near it. Screened from observation by the
friendly gloom of this tree, he thought it practicable to
pass the sentinel, and clear the church-yard in safety. —
Or, should he not be able to elude the vigilance of the
guard, still the uncertainty of his aim in that shadowy po
sition, would leave little to apprehend from the discharge
of his musket. At all events, he determined to make the
experiment. Harassed in mind, and fatigued in body, the prisoners
soon availed themselves of such indifferent accommoda
tions as their situation afforded^ and, before the " noon of
night," there were few, besides Crosby, who were not
fast locked in the arms of sweet forgetfulness. But, as
Hamlet says, Some must watch, while others sleep,
So runs this world away.
When every sound was hushed, save the discordant
nasal chorus of the unconscious performers around him,
Crosby arose from his counterfeit slumber, and cautiously
approached the window, from which he had previously
succeeded in removing the fastenings. Without noise, he
raised the sash,
" And, that they might not clank, held fast his chains."
In the next moment, he was safely seated on the soft
mould of a newly-covered grave, busily employed in di-
vesting his limbs of their iron bracelets. When this was
accomplished, he cautiously raised himself upon his feet ;
and, knowing that a thick swamp lay within one hundred

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 8S
rods, northwest of the church, he started in that direction
with as much speed as the uneven surface of a burying-
ground would permit.
He bad not proceeded fifty paces, however, before he
was suddenly challenged by a sentinel on his right. Hesi
tation would have been fatal. The swamp was before
him — the path had become plainer — he darted forward
with the celerity of a deer. The whizzing of a bullet and
the report of a musket saluted his ear at the same moment ;
but he considered the salutation merely as a friendly
warning not to relax his speed. The race was for life or
death ; for the alarm was given, and " the chase was up,"
Three or- four more leaden messengers,* each as harmless
as the first, passed him in quick succession ; and, as if
emulating their velocity, he pursued them with accelerated
swiftness. The pursuers were behind — but the friendly
swamp was in front, extending its bushy arms to receive
him. One more effort'  He is safe !
* " Fifty pistols lighted the scene instantly, and the bullets whistled in
every direction around tbe head of the devoted ped\aT,^-Spy, Vol. i.p, 138.

tm THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR^

CHAPTER VIII.
THE MOUNTAIN CAVE.
Honour and policy, like unsevered friends,
I> the war do grow together. SBASSPEAK£.
While the foregoing events were transpiring in
vicinity of the Highlands, transactions of higher importai
and on a much larger scale, were going forward fc
miles below. It was an important object with Washi
ton to secure the roads and passes that communica
with the eastern states ; to prevent which Howe had
New- York, with the greater part of the royal army,
the way of Hurlgate, and landed, as before mentioned
Throg's Neck, in Westchester county. It was evidei
the determination of the British General, either to fo
the Americans from their position on York Island, o
enclose them in it.
Aware of his design, Washington removed a part of
troops from York Island to join those at Kingsbrid
and, at the same time, detached some regiments to Wi
Chester, It still appeared to be his intention, hpwei
to retain that part of the island which he now occupic
and there was certainly a prevailing disposition among
officers generally to do the same. But the gallant I
who had just returned from a successful expedition at
south,* gave such convincing reasons for evacuating
* Some time previous to the evacuation of Boston, Sir Henry Cli
had been sent southward, to the assistance of Grovernor Martin and 1
William Campbell, Governors of the two'Carolinas. As soon as this
known in Cambridge, Lee was ordered to set foi-ward and ob3erv(
movements, and prepare to meet him with advantage, in any part ol

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. S7
island altogether, that it was immediately resolved to with
draw the bulk of the army.
He also urged the expediency of evacuating fort Wash
ington ;* but in this he was opposed by Greene, who
argued that the possession of that post would divert a
large body of the enemy from joining their main force ;
and in conjunction with Fort Lee, on the opposite side of
the river, would be of great use in covering the transpor
tation of provisions smd stores, up the Hudson, for the
service of the An^rican troops. He added farther, that
the garrison coultT be brought off at any time, by boats
from the Jersey side of the river. j
Unfortunately for the cause, the opinion of Greene
prevailed. Though the system of evacuating and retreat
ing was generally adopted, an exceptton was made in
favour of Fort Washington, and near tliree thousand men
were assigned for its defence. An unfortunate error, as
will appear in the sequel ; for, as Adjutant-General Read
afterwards said, in a letter to Lee, " If a real deiience of
the lines was intended, the number was too few ; if the
fort only, the garrison was too numerous by half."
In retreating from York Island, the American leader
was careful to make a front towards his enemy, from
Eastchester almost to White Plains, in order to secure the
continent he might think proper to visit. On reaching New-York, with
his detachment from, Cambridge, Lee put the city in a state of defence,
and then pioceeded south with such rapidity, that, to the astonishment of
Clinton, Lee was in Virginia before him. But as the object of the British
armament was still further south, Lee, with uncommon celerity, traversed
the (^ntinent, met Clinton in North Carolina, and was again ready for the
defence of Sullivan's Island, near Charleston, in South Carolina, before
the arrival of the British troops, under the command of Clinton. The
Americans were triumphant, and the discomfitted enemy was glad to
retire to tbe general rendezvous before New- York.
* This fort was situated on the bank of the Hudson, in the vicinity of
Kingsbridge.

fj8 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
march of those who were behind, and to defend the re
moval of the sick, the cannon, and the stores of the.army
In this manner, the Americans formed a line of small
detached, intrenched camps, on the several heights an(
strong grounds, ffom Valentine's Hill, near Kingsbridge
on the right, to the vicinity of the White Plains, on th(
left : the whole, of course, fronting eastward.
In the mean time, the enemy was not idle ; althougl
he had, apparently, been so, for several days after hi
landing at Throg's Neck— ^ which is p kind of mole o
point, connected with the main by a long causeway
through a marshy tract of considerable extent. His spies
however, had been on the alert ; and the first movemem
of Washirigton was the signal for Howe to commence
his favourite scheme of circumvention.
Flushed with his recent victory on Long Island, the
British General ardently longed to grapple, once more
with his discomfitted opponent. But Washington wiselj
considered that the prize at stake was of too much valut
to be risked on the fortuitous result of a single contest
under his present disadvantages of numbers and discipline
He, therefore, cautiously avoided a general engagement
while his troops were daily acquiring confidence and ex
perience by skirmishing with their enemies.
After several unsuccesgful attempts to pass the cause
way before mentioned, which was strongly guarded by the
Americans, the British crossed to the other side of Throg's
Neck, embarked on board their boats, crossed over the
cove, and re-landed on a place called Pell's Neck. From
thence they commenced a brisk movement towards New-
Rochelle.* Three or four American regiments were im-
mediately sent forward to annoy them on their march. —
* New-Rochelle is about five miles south of White Plains, and is washetl
on one side by the waters of the East river, or Long Island Sound.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CUUSBY. 89
These took a good position behind a stone fence ; arid
vhen the advance of the enemy had approached suffi
ciently near, poured such a well-directed fire upon his
columns, as caused many of his finest troops to bite the
dust. This unexpected assault not only checked, but
even caused the advancing party to fall back ; but, being
immediately supported, they returned vigorously to the
charge. For a short time, the action was sharp, and well
supported ; but the Americans were finally obliged to
give way to superior force, and the enemy pursued his
march almost to New-Rochelle, Avhere he halted.
Shortly after this affair, Howe removed the right and
centre of his army two miles farther north, on tbe road to
White Plains. During this movement, a skirmish took
place between two hundred of Lee's men, and three hun
dred Hessians, in which the latter suffered considerably.
The British then moved on, in two columns, and took a
position with the Bronx river in front ;* upon which
Washington assembled his main force at White Plains,
behind intrenchments.
Thus, like two skilful chess-players, did these able Ge
nerals mancEuvre their men ; while, the theatre of their
movements, like an immense chess-board, was crossed
with lines, and chequered with redoubts and intrenchments.
But an important crisis in the game was now evidently at
hand ; one more move must, apparently, decide it. Hea
ven grant that it may be " checkmate to the king."
But while these two gallant opponents are thus sternly
looking defiance at each other, both eagerly watching
for an opening to strike, it is our duty to return to the
fugitive whom we left in the swamp, near the village of
Fishkill.
\ Crosby remained secure in his place of concealment,
* See Chapter VU. 2d paragraph.

2\jf THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
until every sound of alarm and pursuit had ceased ; he
then proceeded, with no little difficulty, to grope his way;
through bushes and brambles, quagmires and morasses-
He doubtless reasoned with himself, on this occasion, as-
^sop's fox is said to have done, under similar circum
stances : « For the sake of the good, let me bear the evil
with patience ; each bitter has its sweet ; and these bram
bles, though they wound my flesh, preserve my life from
danger." ^
After much exertion andi^'fatigue, he succeeded in
emerging from the thicket ; and, fortunately, on the side
opposite to where he entered. He then pursued his
course northward, with the speed of one who is sensible
that every step removes him farther from danger.
In less than two hours he found his course impeded by
a stream, which he rightly conjectured to be Wappinger*s
Creek, the boundary line between Fishkill and Pough-
keepsie.* Agreeably to the instructions he had received from the
Committee, he now turned to the left, and a short half
hour brought him to the residence of Mr. *****.
To be suddenly aroused from bed, by some hasty mes
senger, at any hour of the night, had become so common
an occurrence, since the commencement of hostilities,
that this gentleman evinced no symptoms of surprise or
alarm, when he appeared at the door, in his night gown
and slippers, to answer to the knoek of his untimely
visiter. A few brief sentences, exchanged in a low voice,
convinced both that they were ti'eading on safe ground.'
Crosby was, therefore, requested to enter and be seated,
while the other retired to resume such habiliments as were
better adapted to the purposes of business.

* This name is said to have been derived from the Indian word ^po-
Iceepsing, signifying " safe harbour."

MEMOIRS OV ENOCH CROSBY. ill
On the return of his host, Crosby was informed that
his coming had been anxiously waited for, as the Commit
tee had intimated that he might be expected before mid
night. Refreshments were then introduced ; and while
the weary traveller was diligently employed in appeasing
the cravings of a voracious appetite, his entertainer pro
ceeded to " open the business of the meeting.*"
It appeared, that Mr. ***** had received certain ui-
formation that an English officer was privately enrolling
a company, on tiie other side of the river. This fact he
had communicated to the Committee of Safety, on their
arrival at Fishkill ; and they had agreed to send him an
agent with whom he might concert some feasible plan for
seizing the officer, and making prisoners of his men.
This being a business in which Crosby, to use his own
expression, felt himself ."perfectly at home," he readily
entered into the scheme, and undertook to see it accom
plished by his own ingenuity and address. This proposi
tion was gladly acceded to by his host, who gave him such
instructions as would tend to facilitate the project ; and,
before dayligh^, our hero was safely landed on the western
bank of the Hudson, in the town of Marlborough, a little
north of Newburgh.
Agreeably to the directions he had received, Crosby
immediately struck into the country, in a southwestern
course from the river ; and, after proceeding about twelve
miles, applied at a farm-house for refreshment. Here a
comfortable breakfast was cheerfully prepared for him ;
and, while partaking of it, he received such topographical
information, as convinced him tiiat he had reached the
right spot to commence operations.
After finishing his repast, therefore, he began to make
himself known as an itinerant shoemaker, in pursuit of
work ; and intimated a wish of bemg employed to make
shoes for the farmer or his family.

92 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
" I wish to do something to pay my way," added Crosby,
with an honest simplicity, which he well knew how to
assume ; " as I don't like to be beholden to any one for
a meal's victuals, or a night's lodging."
" That 's all very right," returned the farmer ; " every
honesf man would wish to live by his own airnens.'*
" Well, don't you think that you could give me some
thing to do for a few days ? If you are not in want of
shoes, I wouldn't care to turn my hand to any thing."
" Why, yes," replied the other, after a little reflection ;
" I rather guess that I should like to have you work for
me a day or two. It is true, I have no shoemaking to do
at present ; but if you can help me on the farm, in killing
hogs, and sich like, I should like to have you, and my
wife shall assist you."
Crosby readily consented ; and, as there was no cavil
on the score of Wages, the bargain was soon struck. He
accordingly went to work with that characteristic diligence
and assiduity which was always certain to win the appro
bation of his employers.
But though his whole time and attention appeared to
be devoted to the duties of his new vocation, his grand
object was never lost sight" of. At every fitting opportu
nity, he strove, by sundry indirect, and apparently indiffer
ent, inquiries, to elicit some information from the family,
that might assist in the prosecution of his ulterior designs.
For two days he was unsuccessful ; but, on the third, he
was indebted to accident for what his ingenuity had been
vainly exerted to obtain..
It was a mild morning, near the close of October, that
Crosby and his employer were making some arrangements
for the business of the day, when their attention was ar
rested by a sound that resembled distant thunder. It
came from the southeast, from whende a light air was

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 93
breathing ; but neither cloud nor rack appeared in that
quarter. " Can that be thunder 1" asked Crosby.
" I should rather guess not," replied the other ; " we
sildom have it so late ut the fall. It is more li^y the
two parties are skrimmaging below "
" They must be skirmishing to some purpose," observed
Crosby. " That is the language of artillery, and not of
the smallest caliber. And yet," continued he, in a solilo
quizing tone, "they cannot be above the Plains." Then,
turning to his companion, he inquired if he thought the
report of cannon could be heard so far.
" Why, yes, I should say so," replied the other. " From
here to White Plains is oUly about forty miles, in a straight
line ; and in the last French war, when General Aber
crombie was beat at Ticonderoga, the cannon was heard
at Saratogue, which is over fifty miles, as plain as we hear
these." The sounds still continued, without much intermission,
while both remained silent, and listened with interest. At
length Crosby ventured to observe —
" They must have warm work below. Both parties
must lose blood, whichever gains the day."
" Ah \ these are awful times !" sighed the other.—r
" There 's no telling how it will end."
"What do you think of all this business?" asked
Crosby, in a tone that did not indicate much interest in
the question.
" Why, really, I don't know what to think," replied the
other, evasively. " Sometimes I think it is a very doubt
ful case with us ; and then, again, I almost think, if I had
a good chance, and no family to support, that I would just
go down to the lower party. But, you know, it won't do
for me to say so.''
" Perhaps you couldn't get down there safe, if you felt

94 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
ever so much disposed to go," said Crosby, in a tone that
might be considered interrogatory or not, as the auditor
pleased. " O, yes, I could," returned the other, with a significant
ieerjgiat intimated the speaker knew more than he was
at liberty to communicate.
Like a keen pointer, Crosby had ijow scented the game,
and was determined to persevere in the pursuit ; he, there
fore, promptly answered —
" Well, I wish that / could ; for I believe that I might
do better there than by staying here."
The other turned on him a look of cautious scrutiny ;
but, reading nothing in his countenance to excite suspi
cion, he ventured to observe —
" I can tell you, if you promise not to expose me, how
you can get there if you wish."
"Of course, I will not expose you ; for how can I,
without exposing myself ? I will be much obliged to you
if you will assist me in going down, so that I may not be
detected by the rebels."
" Well, then I will tell you," returned the other, with
renewed confidence ; at the same time looking cautiously
around, in every direction, to ascertain that no listeners
were near. " Do you see yonder mountain 1 On the
west side of it is a curious little cave, that's been dug o'
purpose ; but you might pass it a hundred times without
knowing there was feich a thing there. In that cave, an
English Captain keeps himself concealed ; and we, who
are in the secret, supply him with every thing that heart
can wish. He is recruiting among the Highlands, and
has nearly got his company filled."
" I will offer myself immediately," exclaimed Crosby,
with a sudden animation, that might have excited suspi
cions in the mind of a keener observer than his compa
nion ; who, without noticing it, immediately replied—

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 9&
" Well — I will tell yoa just where you can go to find
him ; or, wait till after dark, and I will go with you."
" That will be the very thing," returned our hero, in
wardly chuckling at the success of his manoeuvre. " By
joining his company, I can go down in safety."
" No doubt of it. But we must be very cautiousl? In
these times, every one is watching his next neighbour."
" You may depend upon my prudence," returned
Crosby. " I have no inclination to get into the hands of
the rebels again ; it was at the hazard of my life that I
escaped from them at Fishkill."
" What ! have you really been taken by them 1 Why,
how in nature did you get away ?"
Crosby here recapitulated the particulars of his escape
from the stone church, and then added —
',' They are obstinate dogs, for, you hear, they are at it
yet.'^ " Let the riglars get them at close quarters, with the
baggonet, and the rebels will stand no chance," replied the
other. " They must be at long shot now, or the skrim-
mage would not last so long."
Here the conversation ended ; and, separating to pursue
their respective avocations, they met no more till supper
time. After which they set out, accorHing to agreement,
to seek an interview with the military hermit in the " cave
of the mountain."
On arriving at the western side of the lofty eminence
which our hero's conductor had pointed out to him in
the morning, they paused near a clump of dwarf cedars
which grew at its base. In front of them was a dark
looking object, which proved to be a huge rock, cleft in
twain by some concussion of the elements, or by a precipi
tate descent from the dizzy steep above it. With a heavy
stick, which the farmer carried with him, he struck seve
ral blows, in quick succession, on the flat surface of the

Sti THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
rock ; and, in a short lime, a bright ray of light darted
from behind it, and gradually increased in brilliancy. In
the next moment the object of their visit stood before
them, with a small lanthern in his hand, by the aid of
which he took a critical survey of his visiters without
spejffl&g. He then bid the farmer welcome, who,
promptiy introduced his Companion as " John Smith, a
faithful friend to his majesty," and instantly disappeared.
The Captain received Crosby very cordially ; and after
numerous inquiries, to all of which he received plausible
and satisfactory answers, he at length exclaimed —
" Well, sir, you appear to have limb and muscle, and
would make a devilish good looking soldier. I should
like to have you in my corps of Highlanders, which have
just been collected. Come, what say you ?"
" I have not the least objection," replied Crosby ; " and
as I have no fixed home, or place to go to, I should like
to stay with you ; for if the rebels catch me again, they
will show me no mercy."
" Agreed !" exclaimed the Captain, after eyeing him
sharply for a few moments. " You are a d  d honest
looking fellow, and I '11 try you. Come, sir ; see if you
can double up that gigantic carcass of yours so as to get
into that hole," pointing to the mouth of an artificial ex
cavation in the mountain, just behind the cloven rock,
which Crosby had not before observed.
The new recruit instantly obeyed the orders of his su
perior, and found himself in a small, comfortable, well-
furnished apartment, with seats, and other conve
niences, suitable for two or three persons. In the centre
of the floor, stood a small round table, liberally supplied
with a great variety of cold meats, pastry, bread, butter,
cheese, and every other kind of eatables that the neigh
bouring farm-houses could furnish. But what the occu
pant of the cave most earnestly commended to the atten-

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CUOSBY. 1)7
tion of his guest, was a large jug, or rather its contents,
which he swore was as fine Madeira as had ever graced
the table of Sir Harry, or even his lordship himself.
" Come, my good fellow, help yourself," said the her
mit, pushing the jug to his new proselyte, after filling his
own goblet to the brim. " D — n me, but you shall live
like a fighting cock, for the few days longer that I have
got to burrough in this hole. A health to his Majesty,
and success to the good cause."
" With all my heart," exclaimed Crosby, and drained
the goblet.
As our hero now appears to be very comfortably
situated, in a strong hold, with plenty of provisions for the
garrison, we will venture to leave him there for a few
days, while we revisit the scene from whence proceeded
those " sounds of war," which gave rise to the conversa
tion that ultimately brought about the present change ia
his circumstances.

13

£)3 XHE SPY UNMASKED ; OK

CHAPTER IX.
chaderton's hill.

-This day hath made

Much work for tears in many an English mother.
Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding gioond :
Many a widow's husband groveling lies
Coldly embracing the discolonred earth. Shaes. King Johk.
We left the two hostile armies, in front of each other,
at White Plains, with souls "in arms, and eager for the
fray." On the morning of the 28th of October they still
retained the same position, sharply watching each other's
motions. .*
Iq the mean time, a commanding eminence, on the
southwest of the American camp, had caught the attention
of Washirigton ; who, knowing the importance of strength
ening his position, resolved to reconnoitre the ground im
mediately. He, accordingly, ordered such of his general
officers as were not on duty, t© attend him, and rode to
the spot ; but, on examination, found it not so suitable for
his purposes as he had anticipated.
" Yonder," said Lee, pointing to another eminence on
the north, " is the ground we ought to occupy."
" Let us, then, go and view it," replied the commander-
in-chief ; and away they posted as fast as their mettlesome
steeds would carry them.
They had not proceeded far, however, when a light-
horse-man was seen coming up, on full gallop, his steed
almost out of breath. Hastily saluting the General, he
exclaimed —
" The British are on the camp, sir !"

memoirs of ENOCH CROSBY. d9
" Then, gentlemen," said Washington, " we have other
business than reconnoitring. Follow me I"
So saying, he put spurs to his prancing charger, and
galloped to the camp, swiftly followed by his well-mounted
Generals, Lee, Heath, and the rest. On arriving at head
quarters, the party were met by the Adjutant-General,
the gallant Read, who hastily addressed his commander —
" The guards, sir, have been all beat in, and the whole
army are now at their respective posts, in order of battle."
Washington, on hearing this, turned coolly to his offi
cers, and dismissed them with this brief order —
" Gentlemen, you will repair to your respective posts,
and do the best you can."*
Here they separated, each officer repairing to his own
division, which he found in the lines, firmly awaiting the
charge, which had already commenced on the right of tbe
Americans, by a column of Hessians, the forlorn hope of
the British army. They were commanded by General
de Heister and Colonel Rhal, who directed their first at
tack against the Americans that were posted on an emi«
nence called Chaderton's Hill, commanded by General
M'Dougall. ^
The cannonade now become brisk on both sides. Sud
denly, the enemy's right column, consisting of Britisb
troops, under the command of General Leslie, appeared
in the road leading to the court-house, in front of Heath's
division, on the American left. This advancing column
was preceded by about twenty light-borse-men, in full
gallop, brandishing their swords, as if they intended to
decapitate every Yankee they could reach.
Without hesitation, they leaped the fence of a wheatfield,
at the foot of the hill on which the brave Malcolm?s regi*
ment was posted ; of which circumstance the* cavaliers
* See Heath's Memoirs.

100 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
were not aware, until a shot from a field-piece struck in
the midst of them, and unhorsed one of the party without
ceremony. This being a hint that the gentlemen could not well
misunderstand, they wheeled short about, and galloped
out of the field as fast as they came in ; nor did they
- slacken their speed until a friendly hill left nothing but
the tips of their plumes for Malcolm to>-waste his fire on.
Whether it was owing to this circumstlEnce, (the pre
cipitate flight of his horse,) or to previous arrangement,
it is certain that the British column advanced no farther
up the road, but suddenly wheeled to the left, by platoons,
as fast as they came up ; and, passing through a bar or
gateway, directed their head towards the troops on Cha
derton's Hill, already engaged with the Hessians,
The appearance of this column of well-disciplined
troops, the flower of the British army, was truly imposing.
Their brightly polished arms, bristling with bayonets, glit
tered in the sunbeams with almost a dazzling lustre. —
What a contrast to their undisciplined opponents, the
American militia, who, with rusty muskets, irregular ac
coutrements, and scarcely a bayonet to a platoon, stood
before them undismayed, and (even when vanquished)
unsubdued !
The cannonade still continued brisk across the Bronx ;
the Americans firmly retaining their position on the hill,
and the enemy directing all his energies to dislodge them.
Convinced, at length, that long shot would never effect
the object, preparations were made to come to closer
quarters. For this purpose, a part of the enemy's left column,
composed of British and Hessians, forded the river, and
marched 'along, under cover of* the hill, until they had
gained sufficient ground to the left of the Americans ;
when, by facing to the left, their column became a line

memoirs op ENOCH CROSBY. lOr
parallel with their opponents. In this order they ascended
the hill with a quick movement.
The fire from the British artillery now ceased, of course,
in order not to endanger their own men, who were bravely
advancing to charge the Americans on the summit of the
hill; but the fire of the musquetry between the two par
ties was so rapid and incessant, that it was impossible to
distinguish tbe sounds.
The Americans finally gave way before superior disci-
phne, and mOved off the hill in as good order as could
have been expected. The British ascended the hill very
slowly, but in that close compact order for which their
infantry are so justly celebrated. There is no doubt, how
ever, that every man felt glad when he had reached the
summit, where they formed and dressed their line, with
out evincing any disposition to pursue their retreating foe.
The fact is, both parties felt perfectly willing to rest
awhile after the fatigues of the day. It is true, that ob
taining possession of the contested eminence gave the
British great advantage over their opponents ; but, feeling
too sore to pursue this advantage, they were content to
let things remain as they^ were for the present.
During this action, which ought to be called the " Bat
tle of Chaderton's Hill," several hundreds fell on both
sides. It was a waste of lives, without much advantage
to either party. In the midst of the engagement, how
ever, the American baggage and stores were moved off in
full view of the British army.*
Washington soon after changed his front,.by drawing
back the right and centre of his forces to some hills in his
* "The brunt of this battle," says Shallus, "was sustained by the
American General M'Dougall, posted on the right of the American army,
who nobly sustained his post with six hundred men, against the British
army, though basely deserted by four regiments of militia, who fled on
the approach of two hundred and fifty light horse."

IQg THE SPY unmasked; OR
rear, and leaving the left wing in its former position ; thus
forming a line neariy^east and west, fretting his enemy
on the south. In this eligible position he expected and
desired an action ; but the enemy did not see fit to make
the attempt. He afterwards withdrew the whole army to
the heights of Northcastie, about five miles above White
Plains, near the Connecticut line, where his position was
so strong that Howe found it necessary to adopt an entire
new plan of operations.
In the mean time, Crosby was enjoying ease aud luxury
in the " cave of the mountain," which was regularly sup
plied with provisions by several farmers who secretly fa
voured the royal cause. He found the Captain to be a
good-humoured jovial fellow, somewhat coarse in his
manners, but not a disagreeable companion. As he and.
Crosby Uved and messed together, they were, of course,
on the most familiar terms of intimacy ; it will, therefore,
be readily conceived, that the latter soon made himself
acquainted with every particular of the other's plans.
" In three days, my lad, we shall cross the Highlands,"
said the Captain, gaily, as he folded a letter which had
just been handed him by our hero's late employer.
" In three days," repeated the other. " Let me see —
that will be Tuesday, as this is Saturday."
" Yes, this is Saturday, and to-morrow will be Sunday^
when your motiey psalm-singing rebel army will be chaunt-
ii^ hallelujahs through their noses ; that is, if our cavalry
didn't shave off those vocal appendages at White Plains.''
" According to the letter you have just read to me, it
would seem that some of the royal cavalry have been even
closer shaved by the rebels in Heath's division," returned
Crosby, with a slight indication of humour in his counte
nance. " By Heaven !" exclaimed tbe Captain, " you look
and talk as if you were glad of it."

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CHOSBY. 108
" I should be glad to have been in their ^tuation," said
Crosby, drily. '*
" Where ?— Behind the hill 1"
" No — 1 would have cleared the hill, and made for the
Heath." " Good ! by *** ! If the flash of your musket be like
that of your wit, you will be an honour to the corps."
" Wit sometimes wounds a friend."
" Then there the comparison ends, for your musket
will only be levelled at the rebels. But come ; let's to
business. Do you know 'where the little heap of earth
stands which the Yankees call Butter Hill ?"*
" Yes— at the north entrance of the Highlands, oppo
site St. Anthony's face."t
" True — and were that break-neck rock a real living
saint, and the opposite hill composed of genuine Goshen
butter, d— n me, but tbe saint's mouth would water. But,
as I was saying, on the western side of that mountain,
(for so we would call an eminence of fifteen hundred feet
in England,) is a lonely barn, belonging to a good loyalist,
and a d  d fine fellow. To that barn we must all go
on Tuesday evening ; and, after taking an hour's rest in
the hay-mow, pursue our course to the royal lines. To
morrow you and I will bid good-bye to this cursed hole.

* This is a high cobble hill, on the west side of Hudson river, opposite
Breakneck Hill. These are the northern hills of tbe Highland chain.
f St. Anthony's Face is on the south side of Breakneck Hill, at the north
entrance of the Highlands, sixty miles from the city of New- York. Its
name is derived from a ludicrous resemblance of a Colossal human face,
as seen from the river. The rock which has this appearance, exhibits «
good profile of a face of thirty-two feel, aided by a little fancy, and 'a
relish for the marvellous. A tree which grows upon the chin, just reaches
the height of the eyes, and kindly spreads its branches for the eye-brows
of the saint. There is another promontory, opposite the site of Fort
Montgomery, five miles below West Point, which is called St. Anthony's
Nose, but the resemblance is less remarkable.

104 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
as my friend S**** has generously offered to accommo
date the whole of us, until we march."
Havmg nothing to oppose to this arrangement, Crosby
made no objection ; and Sunday evening saw the whole
corps (about thirty) assembled at the house of Mr. S****.
But how was the Committee of Safety to be made ac
quainted with these circumstances ? This was a question
that, for some time, baffled the ingenuity of our hero ; as
he was aware that he could not absent himself a moment
without exciting suspicions. At length, however, he hit
upon a plan, and hastened to put it into execution. — .
Taking the Captain apart, he thus commenced it : —
" I am apprehensive, sir, that our being here altogether
may turn out to be bad policy."
" Your reasons. Jack, your reasons," said the other,
with a dramatic air. " The devil's in't if we are not re
tired enough ; there's not a neighbour within a mile."
" It is just such retired situations that Townsend's
Rangers are always searching. They seldom seek for
organized companies of loyalists in populous villages."
" D — n Townsend's Rangers ! They are over the
river." " That 's not certain. They are every where by turns,
and no where long. But let us suppose the worst. If
the rebels should discover us, and surprise us altogether,
the whole corps is at once annihilated. But if we^perse
until the hour of marching, they can only pick up one or
two, and the main body will remain safe,"
" D — n me. Jack, but you shall be my orderly. Your
advice is good, and we will separate immediately. No
one shall know where another sleeps, and that will pre
vent treachery. There 's an improvement of my own,
Jack. Go — choose your own lodgings ; and you need
be at no loss in this bundling country of yours. But re-

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CEOSBY. 105
collect, here we all muster at seven o'clock, on Tuesday
evening," With these words they separated ; when Crosby lost
no time in repairing to the house of a man whom he knew
to be a warm friend to the country, and desired him to
saddle his horse instantly, and carry an express to the
Committee of Safety, at Fishkill, The other complied
without hesitation ; and, while he was preparing for the
journey, our hero wrote the following communication : —
" To the Committee of Safety.
" Gentlemen —
" I hasten this express to request you to order Cap
tain Townsend's company of Rangers, to repair immedi
ately to the barn, situated on the west side of Butter-Hill,
and there to secrete themselves until we arrive, which will
be to-morrow evening, probably about eleven o'clock;
where, with about thirty tories, they may find,
" Your obedient servant,
« John Smith."
Monday evening. Nor. 4, 1776.
As soon as this express was despatched to Fishkill,
Crosby repaired to the house of his former employer,
where he remained until the hour appointed on the fol
lowing evening ; when, (his messenger having returned
with an answer,) he rejoined his company, which was
now assembled at the house of Mr. S****, Everything
being arranged for their departure, they took leave of their
loyal host, and cautiously proceeded across the country,
to Cornwall, where they forded Murderer's Creek, and
soon reached the solitary barn where they contemplated
to rest in safety. * *-
Completely jaded by theirlong and rapid march, every

106 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
one was eager to secure a snug birth in the hay, in order
to snatch an hour's repose before they resumed their
journey. Our hero nestled down with the rest, close to .
the side of the building ; and, in a few minutes, he was
the only individual awake.
In about an hour he heard some one cough on the out
side the barn. This, being the pre-concerted signal, was
immediately answered by Crosby, through an opening be
tween the boards ; and, in the next moment, the building
was filled with armed men, headed by Captain Townsend,!
accompanied by Colonel Duer, one of the Committee of
Safety, who had given the signal before mentioned.
" Surrender !" exclaimed Townsend, in a voice that
started every drowsy slumberer from his rustling couch.
" Surrender ! or, by the life of Washington, you have
taken your last nap on this side the grave !"
No resistance was attempted, for none would have
availed against such fearful odds. Some gave up without
hesitation, while others endeavoured to conceal themselves
in the hay ; but they were soon dragged forth, and mus
tered on the barn- floor, where several of the Rangers
were stationed with lantherns.
"Who commands this band of heroes'?" demanded
Townsend. "I do," answered the Englishman, promptly and
proudly. " I have the honour to bear his majesty's com
mission, and demand your authority for this arrest and
detention." "The authority of the continental congress, whose
commission I have the honour to bear," answered Town-
send : " I shall, therefore, trouble you for such papers as
you may have in your possession : we pledge ourselves,
however, that nothing of a private nature shall be de
tained." i .;
The Englishman reluc&tlv complied with this military

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 107
usage, and at Townsend's request, proceeded to call his
own men by the muster-roll. At the name of Enoch
Crosby no answer was returned.
" Search for him with your bayonets !" exclaimed
Townsend, and fifty blades were instantly plunged into as
many different sections of the hay-mow. Our hero now
began to think it high time to show himself, and ask for
quarter. On descending to the floor, the first person he recog
nised was Colonel Duer, a member of the Committee,
who had accompanied the party for the express purpose
of affording Crosby an opportunity to escape ; but this
generous intention was completely frustrated by the zeal
of Townsend, who instantly knew the prisoner, and seized
him with an arm as muscular and sinewy as his own.
" Well met again, old comrade !" exclaimed the Ran
ger, with a smile of triumph. " You showed us a light
pair of heels at Fishkill ; but if I do not see them made
sufficiently heavy this time, may I never be a Major."
" Who is he ?" inquired Duer, affecting ignorance of
the prisoner's person.
" Enoch, the patriarch," returned Townsend, smiling
at his own conceit. " He who disappeared from the
church in Fishkill, almost as mysteriously as his ancient
namesake is said to have done from the earth."
" It is true, he did play us a slippery trick," observed
Duer, who thought it necessary to say something. " But
we cannot blame the poor fellow for consulting his own
safety." " Poor !" echoed Townsend. " If he be poor, John
Bull must pay him ill."
" Yes, indeed," said the Lieutenant, who felt his own
honour a littie piqued at Crosby's former escape : " King
George owes him a dukedom."
" And Congress a halter," added the Captain, as he re-

lOd THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
signed the silent subject of these sarcasms to two men,
who soon shackled his limbs in such a manner as to pre
vent the possibiUty of his again giving them the slip.
As soon as the prisoners were all secured, the party
were ready to march ; and, " to shorten a long story," as
Crosby quaintly expressed it, not many hours elapsed,
before he found himself in full view of the stone church
at Fishkill.
But Crosby, it appears, had forfeited the fH-otection of
the church ; for while the other prisoners were conducted
into that friendly asylum, he was compelled to match a
nule further, to a farm house on the east sideof the plain,
which lies in front of the village.
Here he was permitted to halt ; and soon discovered
that it was not only the temporary head-quarters of Cap
tain Townsend, but the permanent residence of Mr. Jay,
chairman of the Committee of Safety. This circumstance,
however, was not likely to operate in his favour, as Town-
send immediately adopted such prompt measures to pre
vent the escape of his prisoner, as evinced the deep inte
rest that officer felt in his detention. Crosby was placed
in a room by himself, and a guard detailed for his security,
comprising some- of the most vi^ant members of the
corps. All men must eat at times, and Captsdn Townsend had
^:^ted for the last twelve hours. Under such circum
stances, it is not surprising that he awaited the prepara
tions for supper with no littie degree of impaitience. This
feeling, however, was frequently beguiled and diverted by
the frank, free, and insinuating address of a rosy-cheeked
lass, who, on this occasion, officiated in capacity of house
maid. The Captain was no anchorite, and the maid ap
peared to be scrupulously attentive to his most trifling wants;
untU he became so completely absorbed with love, wine, and

I

\

^

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 109
^roiled chickens, that he forgot there was such a man as
Enoch Crosby in the world.
' But Miss Charity was too liberal in her opinions of right
and wrong to " Feast the rich, and let the humble starve."
She very considerately reflected that the sentinel at
Crosby's door, might probably be as sharp set as his Cap
tain ; and, under this impression, without consulting the
superior, prepared him another chicken, which she ac
companied with a bottle of Jay's best old French brandy.
How the ranger relished the joke was never accurately
ascertained ; but one thing is certain, that, owing either
to the quality or quantity of the liquor, he actually fell
asleep on his post.
About midnight, our hero was aroused from an unquiet
slumber, by a gentle shake of the shoulder. On opening
his eyes, he beheld the figure of a female bending over
him, with a dark lanthern in her hand.
" Follow me, without speaking," said she in a whisper ;
" and hold fiist by them ugly things, that they don't make
a noise." Crosby instinctively obeyed in silence, and followed his
fair conductor from the apartment. For a moment he
paused to gaze at the snoring sentinel, while Charity care
fully closed and locked the door. She then led the way
through a small garden, in the rear of the house, and,
pointing to the West Mountain, against the side of which
the moon was pouring a stream of mellow radiance, she
bid him haste to seek a shelter amidst its almost impene
trable fastnesses.
" But how have you effected this ?" asked the bewil
dered and astonished prisoner ; " and what will be the
result to yourself, and that careless sentinel ?"
" Fear nothing, for either," hastily replied the giri ;

ilO THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
" but hasten to the mountains. I shall instantly return
tbe key to Townsend's pocket, who is himself snoring on
the sofa. Dr. Miller's opiates are wonderfully powerful
when mixed with brandy. Now, fly for your life ! The
sentinel shall be on his feet when the relief comes. You
have not a moment to lose. I shall be at Hopewell by
the time the alarm is given. Not another word — I want
no thanks — Jay is your protector  Fly !"
With these words she disappeared in the house.
The heavy shackles with which our hero's limbs were
encumbered, allowed him to move but slowly. The coast
was perfectly clear, however, and the moon illumined the
whole of the plain before him. No obstacle appeared to
oppose his progress to the mountain, which, rising like a
huge pyramid, seemed to invite his approach. He ad
vanced with confidence, but with tardiness and fatigue,
until he reached a little thicket on the left, where he de
termined to stop, and, if possible, free himself from his
fetters. This object being effected, after much exertion,
he bounded forward with a heart as much lightened as his
heels, until he found himself beyond the possibihty of pur
suit, among the intricate passes of that gigantic eminence.
On the following morning, Townsend found himself
refreshed, the key in his pocket, and a trusty sentinel be
fore the door of his prisoner's apartment. There was no
other outlet to the room except a window, closed with a
strong shutter, and guarded by another sentinel on the
outside. No alarm or noise had been beard by any one
during the night, and what doubt could there be of the
prisoner's safety 1
But words are inadequate to a description of Town
send's feelings, when, on" taking the key from his pocket,
and unlocking the door, the apartment was found evacu
ated and without a tenant. The guard were all sum
moned, but every one protested his ignorance and inno-

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. Ill
cence of the prisoner's escape ; and all united in express
ing their surprise that a man in irons could creep up the
chimney. But there was no other alternative ; if he did
not escape that way, which way could he have made his
egress from the apartment ?
Captain Townsend could not forgive this second decep
tion. He felt that his honour, as an officer, was impli
cated ; and inwardly swore that if Enoch Crosby became
his prisoner again, a very summary process should put an
end to his career,*
* See the Spy, Vol. I. Chap. V, three concluding pages.

113 THE SPY UNMASKED^ OR

CHAPTER X,
THE SECRET PASS.
We must find
An evident calamity, though we had
Our wish, which side should win : for either thou
Must, as a fore%n recreant, be led
With manacles through our streets, or else
Triumphantly tread on thy conotry's ruin. Shaes, Coriolamcs,
As soon as our hero considered it prudent to leave his
place of concealment in the West Mountain, which was
not until the following night, he cautiously descended in
a southern direction ; and being, by this time, well ac
quainted with every pass through the Highlands, knowing
where the ravines might be penetrated, and where the
streams were fordaible, he proceeded with silent celerity,
and increasing confidence. For several hours he pursued
his course without interruption, carefully avoiding such
spots as he knew to be inhabited ; sometime plunging
into thickets, at others finding it necessary to ascend hills
that appeared to be almost inaccessible.
About sunrise, he ventured to descend into the highway,
where he continued to travel until fatigue and hunger
compelled him to seek for a habitation where he might
safely apply for refreshment.
At this juncture, he found himself within a quarter of a
mile of a farm-hOuse, the owner of which he knew to be
a tory, and would doubtless supply his immediate wants.
He directed his steps accordingly, and soon received a
cheerful welcome from the mistress of the family, her
husband being absent from home. He told his story, or

.<¦«!.'.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. jllJJ
as much of it as was proper to be related, and his loyal
hostess could not find language to express her commjse-
ration of his sufferings, and her indignity at the wrongs
he had received at the hands of the abominable rebels !
In short, she treated him like a son ; and insisted upon
his making her house bis home, for as long a time as he
thought it prudent to remain. On his departure, she
loaded him with provisions and clothes, with a capacious
new pack to contain them. * «»
*'"*Being well aware that patrols were scouring the country
in every direction, who, if they recognised him, would bp
sure to retake him, he felt the necessity of being very cau
tious in his movements. It is true, that he might meet a
cordial welcome from those who secretly favoured the
British cause ; but at a period when so many were induced
by circumstances to disguile their real sentimerits^ it was
difficult to discriminate between friends and foes. Every
whig would have thought it a duty he owed, hjs country
to deliver up the fugitive to the vengeance of her violated
laws ; while many, who felt interested in his safety, were
deterred from affording him protection by a prudent re
gard for their own.
Under such circumstances, our hero soon found himself
placed in a very unpleasant dilemma ; while every suc
ceeding day seemed to increase the gloom which, like a
portentous cloud, hung over his untoward destiny. Hunted
like a beast of the forest by one party — suspepted and
avoided by the other — he felt himself, at times, an outcast
in the world — a houseless wanderer, without a country or
a home !* While looking at this side the picture, it ex-
* "Most of the movements of the pedlar through the country, were
made at the hours which others allotted to repose. His approaches to
the American lines ivere generally so conducted as to bafiSe pursuit, Many~
9, sentinel, placed In the gorges of the mountains, spoke of a strange
15

114 THE spy UNMASKED ; OR
hibited a cheerless, dreary scene of desolation,^ at the con
templation of which his heart sickened within him. But
when he recollected the object for which he had voluntarily
submitted to this living martydom — when he reviewed the
motive of the sacrifice — a ray of peaceful tranquilUty, ema
nating from a self-approving conscience, stole over his
mind, which he would not have exchanged for the crown
and sceptre of England.
^It was near the close of. a toilsome day's wandering, in
the cheerless month of November, that he called at an*
indifferent looking farm-house, and requested to be ac
commodated for the night. This request was cheerfully
granted ; and, throwmg off his pack, he sat downi with a
thankful heart, to rest from the fatigues of the day.
He had not remained in this situation long, when two
large men, armed with muskets, entered the apartment.
One of them started on seeing our traveller ; .and, in a
low voice, said something to his companion, to which the
other apparently assented/^
Crosby remained sifint,'watching the movements of
these men with the deepest interest, as he suspected them
to be volunteer scouts, numbers of which were con
stantly on the look-out for such persons as were suspected
of toryism.
In a short time they advanced to our hero, and, after
surveying him attentively, one of them accosted him —
" I think, sir, that I have seen your face before."
" Very possibly, sir," returned Crosby, coolly ; " though
I cannot say that I have the pleasure of recollecting yours."
" Probably not. But, if I mistake not, 1 saw you con-
ducted to Fishkill prison, a short time since, in company
of a number of tories, arrested by Townsend's Rangers."
iigure that had been seen gliding by them in the mists of the evening,''—
Sptj, Vol.i.p. 149.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. l]ij
" Oj yes, it is he," exclaimed the other ; " I could
swear to him among a thousand."
" So, you have made your escape, sir, it seems," con
tinued the first speaker. " But under our escort you will
not find it so easily done again. To-morrow morning you
shall accompany us to Heath's head-quarters ; and, if the
provost marshal does his duty, your plots and escapes will
soon be terminated. The Committee of Safety will not
take the trouble of trying you again."
" It is a serious subject for jesting," observed Crosby,
throwing an unquiet eye around, as if in search of some
avenue for escape.
" You will find it no jest," returned the other, " Jay
and" Duer are determined to make an example of you. A
tory they can pardon and pity. But a traitor, who, after
bearing arms in the good cause, basely turns those arms
against his countrymen, has forfeited all claims to protec
tion. Mercy to such a wretch would be cruelty to our
country."* :i;^im
" And think you that Jay would pronounce me a traif
tor ?"f asked Crosby, with some earnestness.
" How could he do otherwise ?" returned the other.
" What have you to urge in your own defence 1"
Notwithstanding his reliance on the secret protection
of the Committee, our hero felt a strong repugnance to
become a prisoner again so soon ; especially, as the exas
perated Rangers, (at a time when the civil law was but
* " Dark and threatening bints began to throw suspicion around his
movements, and the civil authority thought it incumbent on them to exa
mine narrowly into his mode of life. His imprisonments were not long,
though frequent ; and his escapes from the guardians of the law compa
ratively easy, to what he endured from the persecution of the military.'
Spy, V<d. i. p. 34.
f " Will Washington say so, think y^u ?" said Birch, with a ghastly
smile. "No — no — no  Washington would never say. Mead him to a
sallows.' "—Spy, Vol. i. p. 249.

lief ruE .spy unmasked; ok
littie regarded by the soldiery,) might feel themselves jus
tified in inflicting a summary punishment, without the
ceremony of a trial. Weakened and fatigued as he was
by toilsome marches, he could not contend against such
odds with any hope of success. Having weighed all these
circumstances in his mind, he concluded that he would be
justified in appealing to the last resort ; his present situa
tion being one of extremity. He, therefore, drew a small
folded paper from a secret place within the lining of his
vest, and presented it to his interrogator.
"Read that, sir," said he, proudly, "and learn how
easy a thing it is to mistake a man's real character ; and
how prone we^are to suspect the innocent."
The two strangers perused the paper in silent astonish
ment ; and, for a moment, appeared unwilling to credit
their own senses. At length, 'however, he who appeared
to be the principal, returned the paper, saying,
" I am satisfied, sir, that we have been mistaken in your
real character, for those signatures I know to be genuine ;
and the writers certify that you are actually engaged in
the service of your country. But how is the mystery to
be explained 1 Why were you imprisoned by the orders
Of those very men ?''
" Ask me no further questions, if you please," replied
Crosby, as he returned the pass to its secret depository.
" Be content to beUeve me a true whigj and in the service
of my country. But, above all, I most earnestly request
you, as you wish well to the cause, never to disclose what
you have now learned to any human being."
So saying, he re-shouldered his pack ; and, after eva
sively answering the numerous questions with which they
assailed him, he bade both a hasty " good evening," and
left them to wonder at the strangeness of the adventure.
He now felt convinced that it would not be prudent to
remain there for the night, as he had at first intended :

memoirs OF ENOCH CROSBY. 117
and being somewhat refreshed by the short respite he had
enjoyed, he travelled onward, in search of a more eligible
asylum. After proceeding more than two miles farther, he ven
tured to apply at another cottage, and renew his request
for accommodation ; which, after much solicitation on his
part, was, at length, reluctantly complied with by the
woman of the house. Here again he disencumbered him
self of his pack, and sat down, much fatigued with his
prolonged journey.
While inwardly congratulating himself on the happy
termination of that day's labours, and fondly anticipating a
comfortable night's rest, his attention was caught by the
particular and suspicious manner with which he found
himself regarded by a man who had just entered, and taken
a seat by the fire, Crosby felt confident that he had
somewhere seen him before ; but could not recall to mind
the place or circumstances ; and began to feel somewhat
alarmed at the closeness of his scrutiny. At length,
Crosby spoke—
" Somewhat cool, this evening, sir."
Without noticing this sagacious remark, the other started
on his feet, and exclaimed, with a bitterness of tone that
well corresponded with the ghastliness of the grin that
accompanied it,
« Now 1 know you ! I thought I could not bemistaken.
You are the very d  -d rascal that betrayed us to the
rebel Committee, and caused our company to be taken
and confined in jail. Now, sir, if you don't make yourself
scarce pretty d  d quick, I will call one of my neigh
bours, who swears that, if ever he can lay eyes on you
again, he will take every drop of your heart's blood !"
Crosby made several efiorts to reply, during the delivery
of this philippic ; but the other refused to hear a word be
had to say, and thus continued—

118 THE SPY unmasi^d; or
« You shall leave this house immediately, sir ; but not
till I have had the satisfaction of pounding you !"
" Come on, sir," said our hero, rising coolly from his
seat, and elevating himself to the full height of his manly
stature ; while that of his antagonist appeared to dwindle
in the same proportion. " Come on, sir !" repeated he,
deliberately rolling up his sleeves, and displaying a pair of
muscular arms and bony fists, of the most formidable di
mensions, " Come on — I am ready to try you a pull,"
But, from some cause or other, the host had suddenly
changed his mind, and appeared a little more inclined to
the side of mercy ; for, in a less elevated tone, he replied,
" I believe I will let you off this time, if you will leave
my house immediately, and never set your foot in it again,"
Tired and jaded as he was, Crosby thought it best to
comply ; and travelled another mile before he succeeded in
procuring lodgings for the night ; but there he learned a
fact which induced him to change his plans immediately.
He had long been anxious to obtain a private interview
with the Committee ; but dared not venture to Fishkill,
while Townsend remained in the village with his vigilant
Rangers, He now ascertained, however, that the corps
was on the other side of the river,* and resolved to profit
by the circumstance on the following morning. This
determination he put in execution, and arrived at Duer's
residence, on the succeeding evening, without interruption
or molestation.
After a long consultation, that gentieman advised him
to repair privately to a retired residence, on Wappinger's
* Once, when a strong body of the contine^al army held the Four
Corners, for a whole summer, orders had been received from Washington
himself, never to leave the door of 'Harvey Birch unwatcbed; the com
mand was rigidly obeyed, and during this long period, the pedlar vras un
seen. The detachment was withdrawn ; and the next night Birch re-
entered^his dwelling."— Spy, Vol. i.p. 150.

memoirs'' OF ENOCH CROSBY. 119
Creek ; the farm-house of an honest old Dutchman, and
there work at his trade for the family, and keep, himself
concealed from observation, until further orders.
Being furnished with a complete set of tools for the pur
pose, he shouldered his pack, and proceeded to the desig
nated place ; where he soon found himself very comfort
ably situated, in the family of the friendly old Dutchman,
who had feet enough in his family to keep the shoemaker
in constant employment. It is true, a large majority of
them were the property of females ; but Crosby soon
found, by actual admeasurement, that the understanding
of a plump round face, rosy-cheeked, country Dutch lass,
is not such a trifling appendage, as the same article ap
pears to be among our modern city belles ; for, at the
period of Vhich we are writing, the doctrine of Dr. Sit-
greaves most generally prevailed, that "the wider the
base, the more firm is the superstructure."
In this tranquil asylum he had contmued but two days,
when a letter from Duer, desiring his immediate attendance
on the committee, at Fishkill, was handed him on his seat,
by a messenger sent express for that purpose.
The good old Dutchman, as well as every member of
his family, evinced much curiosity to know the purport of
this communication ; which they knew, by some expres
sions that had fallen from the messenger, must have come
from high authority ; and our hero immediately rose, in
their estimation, at least on^ hundred per cent. Could he
have conversed with Mynheer, in the mother-tongue of the
latter, there is little doubt that he might now have " taken
his pick " among the daughters, with a good farm into the
bargain, " Mine Cot !" exclaimed the Dutchman, knocking the
ashes from his pipe ; " You know tee shentleraen of tee
array ? Vat for tey rite you ?
" I suppose they want shoes for the soldiers," replied

120 THE SPY unmasked; OB.
Crosby, rising from his seat, and taking off his leather
apron, which he carefully spread over his unfinished work
and tools, " I understand that the poor fellows are all
barefoot, and there 's a cold winter at hand. At all events,
I must go and see ; but will probably return time enough
to finish Catrine's shoes for Sunday."
" Now don't you disappoint me," cried the smiling girl,
with sparkling eyes, and one of her sweet insinuating
tones. " If you do, you '11 be sorry,"
" Tevil take tee shoes !" exclaimed the father, filling
his pipe again, " Vy you hotter tee shentlemen mit
shoes, ven he got bishness mit tee army ? You know
Gitty ish shick pon tee ped, and vont vant hem till Christ
mas. But, dunder and blixem, man ! You von^rudge to
Vishkill mit Shank's mare. Here, you Haun^ Puckle
tee pest sbaddle on Valdecker, and pring him to tee horse-
tplock, tirectly — you hear 1"
Crosby was not very strenuous in declining this polite
arrangement of his friendly host ; but was soon mounted,
and waving a farewell to the whole groupe, who had as
sembled in the yard to witness his departure, he striick
his pony into a gallop, and was soon out of sight.
On reaching Fishkill, he immediately waited on Duer,
to learn the pleasure of the committee ; who renunded
him that it would be extremely unsafe for him to remain
in that place long enough for the committee to hold a
consultation ; he therefore directed him to leave the vil
lage as secretiy as he entered it, and travel about three
miles, in a north-east direction, to a place called Hope
well ; there to inquire for Dr, Miller, who kept a small
retail druggist shop, where one of the committee would
meet him in the course of the afternoon.
In compliance with these instructions, Crosby again
mounted his Dutch pony, and soon found the residence

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 121
of the doctor, who happened to be absent from home,
and not expected back until evening.
This information was communicated by a sprightly
smiling female, whose voice and figure struck Crosby as
not being entirely new to him ; while some marked pe
culiarity in her manner of addressing him, evinced, on her
part, a reciprocal recognition. But it was in vain that he
tasked his recollection to elucidate the mystery ; until,
with an arch smile, and an emphasis of much meaning,
she said,^
" If you wish any article from the shop, sir, I think I
can wait upon you to your satisfaction. Doctor Miller's
opiates, you recollect, are wonderfully powerful when
mixed with brandy. They have been known to put even
the vigilant tlangers to sleep."
" Is it possible ! exclaimed Crosby. " Are you then
the  »
" Hush ! Not a word on that subject, for your life !"
returned the damsel, in a low voice, " Those men by the
fire are not Rangers ; but it might not be safe to expose
your real name in their hearing." She then added aloud,
« You had better take a seat by the fire, Mr. Brown ; as
the Doctor will not be home until dark."
Several of the neighbours were, as usual, collected
round the fire, at one end of the shop, discussing the news
and pohtics of the day. Crosby ventured to mingle with
the groupe; and, not being personally known to either,
had the satisfaction to hear his own adventures related, and
descanted on, with all those embellishments, variations,
and exaggerations, that ever accompany the verba} dis
posal of retailed wonders.
« There can be no doubt," observed one, «' that Sir
Henry Clinton obtained that information from Crosby.
16

THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
How else would Knyphausen, and his d— — d Hessians,
have known the way to Spiten-devil Creek 1*
" Aye, and how the d  '1, without the assistance of
some spy, could the regulars have known on which side
to attack the post on Laurel-Hill Ijf demanded another,
looking round him with an expression of triumph that
challenged contradiction. " The Dutchman's left column,
you know, bore all the brunt of the battle, and were pretty
decently peppered."
"Well, well," said a thirdjj^,jwith a self-complacent
smile, and a knowing toss of the head ; " Every dog has
his day. But if Townsend ever gets the traitor in his
clutches again, he will soon dangle in the air, without
judge or jury."
" What sort of a fellow is this Crosby ?" asked our hero,
addressing the last speaker. " Have you ever seen him ?"
" O yes, I saw him at Fishkill. He is a little slender
artful looking fellow, of about five feet three. There 's no
confining him ; for he '11 creep out of a knot-hole ; and I
have no doubt that all our late disasters may be attributed
to his secret intercourse with the enemy."
" It is shrewdly suspected," said Crosby, dryly, " that |
this fellow was at the bottom of the affair at Kipp's Bay."
" Very probably," said the other, forgetting the nature
of that affair ; J wherever there is a tory plot, you may
swear that Crosby is head -devil in the business.''
« Whether at the he&d or tail," observed a third, " his in
trigues have given an unfortunate turn to our affairs. Fort
* Near the site of Port Washington, in the vicinity of Kingsbridge.
t This hill was bravely defended by the Americans, during the attack*
of Port Washington. It is supposed that twelve hundred of the royal
troops were killed or wounded. After being twice summoned, the com
mandant, Colonel Magaw, was compelled to surrender with 2870 Ame
ricans, I See Chapter VI. 3d paragraph.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 123
Washington and Port Lee, are both in the hands of the
enemy.* The American army is retreating through the
Jerseys, and Howe is close upon their heels."
" But didn't Gooch do the neat thing 1" exclaimed the
first speaker. ,
*|Gooch ! Who the d  1 is he V asked his friend.
" Who is he ! A full-blooded yankee, from Boston, and
a captain in Heath's division. During the attack on Fort
Washington, which was bravely defended by Colonel
Magaw, the commander-in-chief, who was across the
river, on the high bank at Fort Lee, was a spectator of the
whole affair. He wished to send a message across to
Magaw, and Gooch offered to be the bearer of it. He
ran down to the river, — ^jumped into a small boat — pushed
over in style—landed under the bank — ran up to the fort,
and delivered the message. — came out — ran and jumped^
over the broken ground, — dodged the Hessians, some of
whom struck at him with their pieces, while others at
tempted to thrust him with their bayonets. But he es
caped through the whole— *got into his boat, and returned
to Fort Lee."t
" Was that message a recommendation to surrender V
asked Crosby.
" So it is presumed," replied the other, " Magaw had
been summoned to surrender ; but requested that he
might be allowed to consider until nine o'clock the next
morning, before he gave a decisive answer. Only two
hours were granted, and Magaw replied that he would de-
* Soon after the reduction of Fort Washington, Lord Cornwallis-, with
a large force, coiuectured to amount to about siy thousand men, crossed
over the North river, to attack Fort Lee, on the opposite Jersey shore-
On the intelligence of their approach, the first determination of the Ame
ricans was to meet and fight them ; but^it was soon discovered that the
contest would be too unequal, and the garrison was saved by an imme
diate evacuation, under the able guidance of General Greeae.
t See Heath's Memoirs.

124 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
fend the fort to the last moment. After receiving Wash
ington's message, however, the fort was surrendered ; and
it would have been a useless waste of lives to hold out
any longer."
" Was our loss great 1" asked Crosby.
" Not in killed and wounded ;" returned the other ;
" but the loss in prisoners was a serious blow indeed. It
is said they were marched to the city, and crowded into
prisons and sugar-houses, where they are now dymg off
by dozens ; so that probably very few of the poor fellows
will ever get home again."
At this stage of the conversation, a gentleman entered
the shop ; and, without noticing the speakers, advanced
to the counter, and ordered a phial of medicine. In this
new comer, our hero instantly recognised the person of
Jay, who had ridden from Fishkill on an elegant horse,
which was standing at the door. While the shopman was
waiting upon his customer, Crosby slipped out, and pre
tended to be admiring the noble animal, until his owner
approached to remount. Our hero politely held the stir
rup, while Jay seized that opportunity to whisper in his
ear 
" It will not do ; there are too many observers in this
place. Return to the Dutchman's, and there wait for
further orders."
He then mounted ; and was soon out pf sight, on the
road to Fishkill.
On re-entering the shop, which he did without being
perceived, Crosby discovered that his own pereon had
been the subject of remark, by the loungers present.
"His conversation and manners bespeak the gentie
man," observed the principal speaker. "1 wonder who
he is, and what his busineps can be with Dr. Miller ?"
" He appears to be acquainted with Jay," said another;
" for I saw them whispering together at the horseblock."

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 125
On overhearing these remarks, Crosby began to feel
apprehensive, that if he remained much longer, these vil
lage politicians might become more inquisitive than he
could wish. He therefore told the shopman that he would
call in the evening ; then mounted his horse, and soon
found himself on the banks of Wappinger.
His host met him in the yard, in front of the cottage,
with his inseparable companion, the pipe, in his mouth.
" Veil, ten, sho you cot pack," said he, puffing a huge
volume of curling vapour from his mouth.
" O yes," replied Crosby, dismounting. " There is no
difficulty in getting back, on such a horse as yours, when
his head is once turned towards home.'*
" O yaw, Valdecker vill ride .any potty right to mine
house. Here, Haunse ! Take off tee sbaddle, ant rup him
town mit a visp of shtraw ; ant, to ye hear, Haunse ! tout
let him trink till he coutch'd coold."
" O there is no danger," returned Crosby ; " I have not
rode him hard. But how are the girls, and poor Gitty ?"
" Veil, she complains as she is leetie petter ; but she
stood up, ven tinner vosh ready, pon tee ped, and ate
pred, mit putter by it."
By this time they had entered the house, where Crosby
•was met by the smiling Catreen, who kindly welcomed
him back, and again reminded him of her Sunday shoes.
These he promised to attend to immediately ; and, after
visiting Gitty in her room, resumed his seat, and pursued
his usual vocation.

126 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR

CHAPTER XI.

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.

-Why then, yon princes,

Do you, with cheeks abashed behold onr works :
And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else
But the protraotive trials of great iofe.
To find persistive constancy in men. Shaesfeabe.
The political intelligence which Crosby gathered from
the conversation at Hopewell, proved, alasl to be too
true. Forts Washington and Lee had fallen into the
hands of the enemy ; and the Americans were retreating
across the Jerseys, closely pursued by the British; so
closely, " that die rear of the army pulling down bridges,
was often within sight and shot of the van of the other,
building them up,"
At Newark, Washington asked Colonel Reed,—
" Should we retreat to the back parts of Pennsylvania,
will tbe Pennsylvanians support us?"
" That may depend upon contingencies," rephed the
Colonel, " If the lower counties are subdued, and §^ve
Qp, the back counties will doubtless do the same."
" My neck does not fee) as &ough it was made for a
halter," returned Washington, passing his hand over it
" We must repair to Augusta county, in Virginia. Num
bers will be obliged to repair to us for safety, and we
must try what we can do in carrying on a predatory war ;
and, if overpowered, we must cross the Allegany moun
tains.'' To increase the gloom which now shrouded his future
prospects, the hero, about this time, was deprived of one

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 127
of his most able coadjutors and active generals. The
veteran Lee, while leading on his division to join the main
army, incautiously took up his lodgings at a house three
or four miles from his troops. This cin^umstance was
immediately commtinicated, by some unprincipled tories,
to Colonel Harcourt, of the British light-horse, who re
solved to attempt his capture. Accordingly, with a de
tachment of dragoons, he speedily surrounded the house ;
made Lee his prisoner ; and, not permitting him time to
take his hat and cloak, mounted him on a horse, and con
veyed him to New- York.
In the mean time, Carleton's army in Canada, after
driving the Americans from post to post, had made their
appearance before Ticonderoga. A naval engagement
had .also taken place between the two fleets on Lake
Champlain, which continued about four hours, and then
resulted in the defeat of the Americans. The enemy,
soon afterwards, established himself at Crown Point, and
strengthened the fortifications; while Gates, with a corres
ponding ardour, continued to increase the works of de
fence at Ticonderoga, determined to give his neighbour a
warm reception, if he honoured him with a visit.
During the development of the foregoing transactions,
the Committee of Safety felt very anxious respecting the
state of affairs on the northern frontier. Frequent in
stances had been reported to them, of persons, in that
quarter, being detected in enlisting soldiers for the tory
regiments in New-York. It had been already decreed,
that every person of this description, who might fall into
the hands of the Americans, should be tried by a court-
martial ; and, if found guilty, executed as a spy.* Some
? One Daniel Strong was found lurking about our army at Peekskill,
and, on examination, enlisting orders were found sewed in his clothes. —
He was immediately tried as a spy from the enemy, sentenced to suifer
dearth, and was executed accordingly."— rAacAer's Joio-nal.

128 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
had already suffered death under this law, and still the
nefarious practice was continued. Under such circum
stances, the committee determined to send Crosby to the
north. Our hero was still a member of the friendly Dutchman's
family, Gitty had recovered her health, and the Sunday
shoes of Catreen had been once displayed at church.
It was a cold morning, near the close of December,
and at a very early hour, that Crosby received a commu
nication from the Committee of Safety, on the subject of
this Northern excursion. He had just resumed his seat ofa
what has been not unaptly termed St. Crispin's fiddle ;
for, in the present instance, it not only resembled that
instrument in form, but also in tone, as its unstable joints
squeaked in unison to the music of the hammer and. lap-
stone. Such as it was, however, it was the manufacture
of Crosby's own hands ; exhibiting another evidence of
that Yankee ingenuity which has since become proverbial
in the production of horn flints, wooden nutmegs, and
artificial pumpkin-seeds.
He had just taken his seat, and was attempting to soften
a roll of wax by the warmth of his own breath, when,
casting his eyes to the window, he saw a horseman at the
gate, in the act of dismounting from a white steed, of su
perior form and dimensions.
Tbe unusual clatter of an old iron knocker, which or
namented the front door of the | building, soon announced
a message of more than ordinary import ; on being admit
ted, however, the messenger appeared to have forgotten the
object of his journey amid the more important concerns
of blowing his fingers, and warming his feet. But as soon
as such matters were perfectly arranged to his mind, he
took a letter from his pocket, and inquired for Jacob
Brown.* * This was the name by which Crosby was known in the Dutchman's
family.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 129
" I answer to that name, for want of a better," quaintly
observed Crosby, waxing his thread.
" Then you are the man into whose hand I am directed
to deliver this letter. An answer is expected by those
who sent me."
Crosby broke the seal, perused the epistle, and then
wrote a brief reply, with which the messenger departed
on foot. This done, our hero repaired to the sleeping-
room of his host, who was yet in bed, and informed him
that he was under the necessity of leaving him imme
diately'; being ordered to the north, on business that
would admit of no delay, and that a swift horse had been
sent for the express purpose of expediting his journey.
" Mine Cot !" exclaimed the other, starting up in his
bed. " Ten you vill not shtay mit us all tee Christmas
holidays." " Not an hour," replied Crosby.
" Veil, den, shtay till 1 kit up, and Catreen kit tec
breakfast py tee table. You must not ride pon your
pelly empty in tee coldt."
The whole family were soon mustered; and, by the
time Crosby had completed his own preparations for the
journey, the table was loaded with hot buckwheat cakes,
fried sausages, and every other substantial argument with
which a Dutch farmer's larder is always liberally supplied.
During breakfast, our hero expressed his gratitude to
every member of the family, for the kindness and hospi
tality which he had uniformly received at their hands.
" Nonsense, man ! nonsense !" exclaimed the generous
Dutchman. " Who vould n't do tee same, ish no petter
ash nobody."
After taking an affectionate leave of every member of
the family, and slily saluting Catreen as he stooped to as
sist her in buckling his portmanteau, which she had libe
rally furnished with necessaries, Crosby left the hospitable
17

1 JU THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
mansion, and mounted his horse. He then inquired of
* his host, who had followed him to the gate, the most direct
road to Sharon.
» To Sharon 1 Val, you see dat roat pon de hel f" —
pointing in a northeast direction.
"^- « O, yes, I see it."
" Val, you musht not take dat roat. You see dis roat
py tee colabarak 1"
"Yes, sir."
" Val, dat ish not tee roat. But you musht go right
straight py tee parn, and vere you see von roat dat crooks
just so — see here,"— bending his elbow, and describing it
at the same time — " and ven you kit dere, keep right
along ; and you musht mind to come pack, and shtay all
night mit me, and make done our Haunse's shoes."*
In due time, Crosby found himself in the right^ road,
and mounted upon an excellent horse. But the dreary
season of the year, and the consequent inclemency of the
weather, rendered the journey extremely unpleasant. In
speaking of this excursion, Crosby says —
" 1 travelled as far as Bennington,t in Vermont, a dis
tance of one hundred and twenty-five miles, and suffered
much from the cold and severe storms I encountered, and

*¦ This direction of the worthy Dutchman reminds the writer of the
fallowing story : — " A Yankee, travelling through a Dutch settlement, in
the state of New- York, and guessing that he was near.his place of desti
nation, thought he would ascertain the fact by inquiring of a man who
was hard at work in a field' of potatoes. He was answered in the fallow.
log manner : ' Val den, you vill tdrh de potato patch round, de pridge
over, and de river up stream, and de hel up ; an4 tirectly you see mine
prother Haunse's parn, shingled mit straw ; dat 's his bouse vare mine
brother Schnyven lives. He 'II tell you so petter as I can. And you go
little further, you see two roats — you must not take bote of 'em.' "
T Bennington is about thirty-six miles from Albany in a northeast direc
tion, and is famous for General Starke's victory over tbe Hessians, on tbe
lethof August, 1777.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 151
from riding on horseback, contrary to my usual habits. —
Had it not been for expediting my journey, I should rather
have trusted to my legs."
The object of his journey, however, was accomplished ;
for, besides detecting a number of secret enemies to the
country, in that quarter, whom be caused to be appre
hended and brought to justice ; he obtained such infor
mation, also, as enabled him ultimately to surprise a com
pany of them much nearer home.
In the mean time, while Washington, with the main
body of the American army, was retreating through the
Jerseys, closely pursued by the enemy. General Heath,
with his division, remained to fortify and defend the High
lands, on both sides the river. While attending to this
arduous duty, assisted by Lincoln, Wooster, Scott, and
Ten Broeck, he received the agreeable intelligence that
Washington, who had previously retreated over the Dela
ware, into Pennsylvania,;) had suddenly turned upon his
pursuers with the most complete success.
Such an event was totally unexpected by the enemy,
who were reposing in confident security in Trenton, and
other parts of New-Jersey. They had been celebrating
the festival of Christmas with unusual satisfaction, occa
sionally mingling in their libations some bitter sarcasms
against the flying Yankees. The mercenaries of Hesse,
Waldecker, and Hanover, who were posted at Trenton,
were particularly elated on this occasion, as they fondly
believed that their labours were now over, and the pro
mised reward ready foV their acceptance. They imagined
that they had at length succeeded in driving the rebels
from their country, and that their houses and lands were
to be immediately divided among the Hessians — for such
had been the delusive tale with which they had been flat
tered by their false-hearted employers^
Under such impressions, they celeWated the birth of

133 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OK
the Saviour with unusual demonstrations of joy ; and
feasted, and drank, and laughed, and sang, until the night
was far spent. It was the Hessians' Christmas banquet.
But, like the impious feast of Belshazzar, its termina
tion was to be , fatal. The handwriting was already on
the wall of their air-built castle of success and security.
In the morning watch, the hero of Liberty came upon
them like a thief, and few escaped.. After a contest of
*half an hour, those who had not fallen, surrendered to the
victorious chief, and his gallant little band of barefooted
heroes.* The news of this affair was like the first ray of sunshine
after a long dismal gloomy storm. It rejoiced the Com
mittee of Safety, elated and encouraged the army, and
revived the drooping hopes of Americans in every section
of the country.
In the midst of their congratulations on this auspicious
event, the same gallant band stole a march upon the Bri-
j tish who were posted at Princeton, over whom they
obtained another complete victory.f .,
Tbe tide of success which had so long flowed in favour
of the enemy, had now turned against them ; while the
Amerifeans, suddenly aroused from a state of despondency,
had become elated with joy ; and, in their turn, pursued
their invaders with as much rapidity as they had reeentiy
fled before them. Washington had always been popular ;
he was now the idol of the army — the acknowledged sa
viour of his country. ¦^^.
In order to take advantage of the general consternation
which these events had produced in the ranks of the ene
my ; and, if possible, to drive t^em entirely out of the
Jerseys, Washington sent an express to Heath, whose
head-quarters were at Peekskill, directing him to draw
* See Appendix, No. VII. t Ibid, No. VIII.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 133
his forces from the Highlands, (excepting a sufficient
guard,) and march themgdown through the " neutral
ground," towards New-York, as if he had a design upon the
city. This manoeuvre had the desired effect. The enemy
became alarmed for the safety of the city, and withdrew
his forces to protect it
Heath advanced down as far as Kingsbridge, where a
battle took place, without much advantage on either side.
He then retired to the fortresses of the Highlands, where
he retained the command until Washington' ordered him
to take that of the eastern department, and hold his head
quarters at 10|^ton.
Several otner events of interest occurred about this
period. General Dickinson,jwith four hundred militia,
and fifty Pennsylvania riflemen, defeated a British foraging
party of equal numbers, taking nine prisoners, one hun
dred horses, forty wagons, besides a number of sheep and
cattle. Shortly after this affair. Colonel Neilson, of New-
Brunswick, with a party of militia, defeated the BriKsh
Major Stockton, killed four of his men, and captured fifty-
nine, together with their commander.
Every such incident produced a beneficial effect on the
reviving hopes of America ; and tended, not a little, to
lessen the mortification arising from several concomitant
disasters ; such as the enemy taking possession of Rhode-
Island ; and also, their destroying some stores at Peekskill,
This latter affair, however, was of trifling import. —
Heath had gone to Boston'; and M'Dougall, who com
manded the post at Peekskill, finding it prudent to retire,
on the approach of the enemy, the object of their expedi
tion' was partially accomplished. But the gallant Willett,
then a Lieutenant-Colonel, with only sixty men, came
upon the enemy by sul^ise, and compelled them to retire
with great precipitation, on board their vessels in the North
river, after ha-^ing suffered a considerable loss.

134 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OK

CHAPTER XII.
% QUAKER JIILL.
Do you confess^ 'twas not a thirst of honour
Drew you thus far ; but hopes to share the spoil
Of conquered towns, and plundered- provinces ?
^ired with such motives, yoUido well to join
With Gate's foes, and follow Caesar's banners.

ADDISOK.

, While the prospects of the American army were the
most gloomy, and the hopes of the people at..^e lowest
ebb, the two Howes, flushed with the rapid; sKcesses of
the royal tr0ops, had availed themselves of the occasion^
and put forth a second proclamation, granting pardons to
all those who should, within sixty days, subscribe a decla
ration to remain peaceable, not to take up arms, nor en
courage others to act against the king's authority. At
the same time, they charged and commanded all who
were assembled in arms, against his majesty, to disband ;
and all legislative assemblies, committees, &c. to desist
from their treasonable practices, and relinquish their
usurped power, within sixty days from the date of the
proclamation. In order to convince the friends of England that Crosby
was in the employment of Howe, the Committee of Safety,
previous to his journey to the north, had furnished him
copies of the foregoing proclamation, together with Howe's
former declaration, offering rewards to such Americans
as would assist him in subjugating their^ fellow-countrymen.
J By exhibitmg these documenti^|{) such ^as were too
wary to avow their real sentiments, oiir hero was certain
to gain their confidence, which was all that was requisite

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 135
to secure their ultimate detection. It was not always
easy to determine who were genuine whigs, as hundreds
assumed that mask to conceal their real characters. But
there was littie difficulty or danger in denouncing the
cautious and the wavering as to^ries. In a cause where
the liberties of a whole nation, and the lives and property
of thousands, are all at stake, " he who doubtsjs daran'd."
He that is not for his country, is virtually operating against
it. It was to such persons that Crosby exhibited the
British proclamations, and always with success.
But there were not wanting occasions of detecting the
blustering pretenders also. Crosby had sufficient discern
ment, and had seen enough of human nature, to know
that hypocrisy is apt to overact its part. Under this im
pression, he frequently set his trap for some of the most
violent brawlers in the cause of liberty.l-and 'always with
the same result — for the mask of pjatriotism was instantly
thrown off, while the wearer would secretiy confess to the
bearer of Howe's proclamation, that he was at heart a
partizan of Britain.
On returning from this excursion, while on his way to
Fishkill, our hero ascertained that a company of loyalists
was about being formed and organized at Pawling, a small
town in Dutchess county, near the Connecticut line, and
not many miles distance from the scenes of his boyish days.
To PaKlUng, therefore, he immediately repaired ; where,
in the course of a fortnight, he succeeded in winning the
confidence of the recruiting officer ; and, as usual, agreed
to become a member of the company. ^
In the centre of this town is an extensive valley,
bounded by high hills on the east and west ; and in the
midst of the valley is aiigreat swamp, where Croton-river,
Fishkill creek, and some other streams, take their rise.
On the east side of the valley, a well known eminence.

136 the spy UNMASKED ; OR
called Quaker-hill, rears its gigantic height, on which
stands a large old-fashioned Quaker meeting-house.
It was at a retired habitation, in the vicinity of this build
ing, that the newly-Jormed company of tories were in the
habit of holding their secjret meetings. Our hero, ac
cordingly, made his, arrangements, to have the whole
corps, nimse If included, taken into custody. Unwilling,
however, to trust himsetf^gain in .the hands of the ran-
gersj- and aware that his absence at the time of the cap
ture, would awaken the suspicions of his less fortunate
comrades, he applied to a Colonel Morehouse, who resi
ded in the vicinity, and requested his co-operation. This
gentleman had no immediate command, but promised to
assemble and arm a sufficient number of men lor this par
ticular occasion,
Accordmgly, at the, time appointed, the tories being all
collected at their usual rendezvous, two of the members
hastily entered, with some degree of consternation depict
ed in their laces, one of whoiii addressed the captain —
" Sir, there is a company of armed men collecting at
Colonel Morehouse's. What can be their object ?"
" Are we betrayed !" exclaimed the Captain, looking
sternly round upon the company, " Can it be possible
that we have any traitors auiong us ?"
" O no ;" replied the Lieutenant. " The probability
is, that the lower party are coming up to drivethe d  d
rebels off; and' that Morehouse has collected" this com
pany to oppose them." v
" Some of you go out,, and reconnoitre," said the Cap
tain ; " and if there be any appearance of danger, give us
timely notice."
Five or six immediately sallied, forth, while their com
rades remained in anxious suspense for their report. This
suspense, however, was not of long duration ; for the
challenge of « stand ! surrender !" soon saluted the cars

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 137
oi the whole party, and threw them into a state of con
sternation, dismay, and confusion, which it would be dif
ficult if not impossible to describe. Some sprang from
the windows, and attempted to conceal themselves by
plunging into snow-banks ; others ran to the top of the
building, and secreted themselves under the eves of the
roof. Crosby retreated to an adjoining room, and crept
under a bed ; but was soon dragged out, wheni he learned,
to his secret joy, that scarcely one of the party had suc
ceeded in making good his escape. Seeing his fellow-
captives undergoing the process of being bound, our hero
was immediately seized with such a severe lameness in one
,of his limbs, as rendered it utterly impossible for him to
walk. " I beg that you would not bind me,'' said he to the
Colonel : " for in attempting to escape I have sprained
my leg in a most shocking manner, and am not able to
move a step."
" Go you shall !" exclaimed the Colonel, preparing to
mount his horse. " Lame, or not lame, dead or alive, to
prison you go with the rest. If you cannot walk, yoa
shall hie carried ; here 's a good horse, that will carry
double, and you shall be tied to the crupper."
So saying the Colonel mounted, and ordered two of his
men to raise up Crosby and seat him, straddle, on the
crupper behind him. The men instantly obeyed, without
much tenderness for the sprained leg, of which the pri
soner bitterly complained.
The whole cavalcade, horse and foot, now took up the
line of march, with their prisoners tied together in pairs.
On approaching the place of confinement, the Colonel
dropped in the rearj and in a whisper gave Crosby the
necessary directions for escaping. The escort halted in
two lines, between which the prisoners marched into the
18

136 THE SPY unmasked; OS.
building. While every eye was fixed upon the processioliji
Crosby slipped from the Colonel's horse, and disappeared ;
nor was his absence, noticed for several minutes ; so that
all search £or the fugitive was rendered unavailing.*
From Pawling, Crosby made his way to Patterson, a
few miles further south ; but " finding no game in that
quarter," he concluded to repair to Fishkill for further
orders. On reaching that place, and obtaining a private
interview with the Committee, they informed him that the
service on which they next wished to employ him, would
expose him to the danger of taking the small-pox, which
then prevailed in various sections of the country. They
therefore wished him to repair to Dr. Miller's, and receive
the disorder by inoculation ; to which proposition > he
very readily assented. Being furnished by the Commit
tee with a letter of introduction, together with the neces
sary fuijds, in " continental," he immediately awaited on
the Doctor for that purpose. The process was so favoura
ble, that the patient was confined but a few days;
As soon as he was pronounced fit for duty, the Com
mittee requested Crosby to visit the city of Albany, and
the town of Claverack,t upon special business with Co
lonel Van Ness. Of the purport of this mission, or the^
time it occupied, we have not been informed ; but during
the absence of their agent, the Committee of Safety was
* " Why the rebels suffer him to escape so easily, is more than I can
answer," returned the Captain, " but Sir Henry would not permit a hair
of his head to be ii^urecl."
" Indeed!" cried Frances, with interest; "is he then known to Sir
Henry Clinton?''
"At least he ought to be," said the Captain, smiling significantly.—
Spy, Vol. i. p. 62.
t Claverack is about thiity-five miles south of Albany, on the eastern
side of the Hudson. It was setUed at a very early period by the Dutch,'
and their descendants still occupy a large proportion of the rich lands in
its vicinity.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBV. 139
dissolved,* and two Commissioners appointed in their
stead ; viz. Captain M. Smith, and a Mr. Benson.
At Claverack Crosby remained some time, acting as an
agent, in transferring the property, which had been left
by those tories who had joined the enemy, into the hands
of such as had abandoned their own property, in order to
escape from the Britisb. " This course," says Grosbyj
" had a very beneficial effect ; as the tories soon became
tired of leaving their property to the jenjoyment of other
people." On returning to the vicinity of the " Neutral Ground>'^
our hero resumed his former vocation of ferreting out
such tories as were concerting plans to aid the common
enemy, and causing them to be brought to justice. But
such was the result of his ingenuity and address, that his
plans were always so Contrived as to leave an impression
On the minds of his victims, that he was one of their warm
est adherents. He Was frequently taken and imprisoned
with the rest ; but always escaped, and in suqh a myste
rious, inexplicable, wonderful manner, as occasionally eli
cited from some good old Dutch matron, a dark hint, or
an "ambiguous giving-out," that Enoch Crosby had en
tered into a solemn covenant with a certain being whose
name shall not sully our pages.
Through the medium of the tories, whose confidence
in our hero's loyalty was every day strengthened by the
risks he run to serve their cause, he obtained much valua-
* Jay was afterwards sent as an envoy to the court of Spain, " His
capacity was equal to the business ; he was well received, and his public
character acknowledged : yet his negociations wereuf little consequence
to America, while he resided in Spain. Perhaps, apprehensive that tbe
spirit of freedom and revolt might extend to her own colonies, Spain
chose to withhold her assistance." " The highest fovour he could obtain
was, the trivial loan of four or fivtf thousand pounds, A short time after
wards, however, Spain declwed war agp-nst England."— r-romnVfleoo.
lution.

i4t) THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
ble intelligence respecting the contemplated movements
of the lower party. This he always found means to com
municate to the Commissioners, who as regularly trans
mitted the same to head-quarters.
The year 1777 was distinguished by many events,
highly interesting to those who were engaged in the glo
rious struggle for American freedom ; and there is little
doubt that in the developement of several, the unseen
agency of Crosby produced the most auspicious results.
Among the fortunate incidents of the year, may be enu
merated, the brilliant success of Colonel Meigs, at Sag-
Harbour, on Long-Island ;* the capture of the British
General Prescott, by Colonel Barton, of Providence,
R, I.;t Colonel Wiliett's successful sally from Fort Stau-
wix, since called Fort Schuyler ;| General Stark's victory,
at Bennington ;§ Colonel Brown's success at Lake George
and Ticonderoga;! the battles of Saratoga and Still
water ;^ the defeat of the Hessians at Red Bank, by
Colonel Greene ;** and, finally, the surrender of General
Burgoyne, with his whole army, to General Gates.ff
But this life, alas ! is a chequered scene, and the cur
rent of human affairs seldom runs smooth. As a set-off
to the foregoing, the Americans had to deplore a series of
disasters. The most important of these were, the unsuc
cessful batties of Brandywine and Germantown ;J|
* On the 24th of May, Colonel Meiga made a successful attack on the
British stores at Sag Harbour ; destroying twelve brigs and schooners,
together with great quantities of hay, corn, &c. He sustained no loss,
and brought off with him ninety prisoners.
t See Appendix, No. ix. | See Appendix, No. i.
§ See Appendix, No. xi.
II On the 18th of September, the Americans, under Col. Brown, at
tacked and defeated the Britisb, on the north end of Lake Geoi^, and
Ticonderoga. They took 293 prisoners, released 100 Americans, and
retook the continental standard left there on its evacuation, July 6, 1777.
IT See Appendix, No. xii. ** See Appendix, No, xiii.
*t See Appendix, No. xiv. Jj: See Appendix, No. xv.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY, 141
Wayne's defeat at Paoli ;* Warner's defeat at Hubbards-
town, in Vermont ;t Herkimer's defeat, while marching
to the relief of Fort Stanwix ;! the plundering and burn
ing of Danbury, in Connecticut, and the consequent bat
tle, in which General Wooster was mortally wounded, and
a number of Crosby's old friends and fellow-soldiers
slain ;§ the occupation of Philadelphia by the enemy ; the
capture of Fort Montgomery ;|| and the wanton confla
gration of the continental village of Esopus, and Living
ston's manor.
* On the 21st of September, the British, under General Gray, surprised
the American Gen, Wayne, about one o'clock in the morning, at Paoli.
Of the Americans about three hundred were killed or wounded with the
bayonet, and about seventy or eighty prisoners taken, including several
officers. t Colonel Warner commanded the rear guard of General St. Clair, con
sisting of twelve hundred men> on their march from Ticonderoga to Hub-
bardstown, in Vermont, They were pursued by a detachment from Bur-
goyne's army, under General Praser, who overtook them near Hubbards-
town, where a close and severe engagement took place, in which the bx|ve
Colonel Francis fell, with other valuable American officers. American
loss, 324 killed, wounded, and prisoners, British loss, 133 killed and
wounded. • ifFort Stanwix, since called Fort Schuyler, was, early in August,
¦ invested by a. body of Britons, Canadians, tories, and Indians, and Her
kimer was on his march to disperse them. See Appendix, No. x.
i See Appendix, No. xvi, II See Appendix, No. xvii.

142 THE SPY unmasked; or

CHAPTER XIII,
the spy unmasked.
Fictitions characters aside are thrown.
And epilogues are given in their own. player's^ manual.
Intrigue and stratagem in war, are not only justifiable,
but absolutely necessary ; and he who proves the great
est adept in these, will eventually pluck the laurel from
the brow of his opponent. But that man must possess
more art, ingenuity, and address, than generally falls to
the share of an individual, who can support a fictitious po
litical character for months, and even years, without being
compeUed, sooner or later, to throw off the mask» and to
stand exposed in his own proper person.
Such, at length, proved to be the destiny of our hero.
The mysterious and inexphcable exits, by which he uni
formly eluded the fate and penalties of his less fortunate
companions, began to excite suspicions, which were not
long in receiving confirmation. The loyalists naturally
concluded that there was something more in this than
mere chance and good luck, if their philosophy could only
find it out ; and by consulting '¦ on the subject, collating
circumstances, and comparing notes, they at length came
to the conclusion that Enoch Crosby, instead of being
what he pretended, a friend to the king, was in fact an
American Spy ; and unanimously resolved to take a sum
mary and exemplary vengeance on the delinquent.
Aware of the threatening storm, Crosby thought it pru
dent to retreat from its fury. He had a brother-in-law.

i

memoirs OP ENOCH CROSBY. 143
residii^ in the Highlands, to whom he had lately imparted
the secret of the part he had been playing, for the pur
pose of relieving his parents from the burden of anxiety
under which they had so long laboured. He therefore
concluded to retire to the Highlands, and remain with this
relation, until he could procure a respectable situation in
the army of Washington.
But he was watched, by his new enemies, more closely
than he liad anticipated ; and, on the second day of his re
tirement, was fired at through a window, by some person in
ambush on the outside of the house. The ball just grazed
his neck, and lacerated the collar of his coat ; it then
buried itself in an opposite wainscot, where the perfora
tion is still to be seen. But, on the strictest search, no
traces of the assailant could be discovered.
Our hero was now compelled to be very circumspect
and guarded in his movements ; seldom venturing to show
himself on the outside of the dwelling, and constantly
sleeping in a retired back room, with a loaded musket at
hand. But Tvbat precaution can elude the subtilty of de
termined vengeance 1
" A few nights subsequent to the foregoing incident,"
says Crosby, in relating this circumstance' to the compiler,
"an armed gang came to the house of my brother-in-law,
burst open the door, dragged him from his bed, and de
manded where I was to be 'found. On his refusing to tell
them, they commenced beating him until they had almost
killed him. Perceiving that there was no alternative left
him, but either to die under their hands, or to inform them
where I slept, he directed them to my room, which they
entered with the fury of demons.
" I now awoke, out of a sound sleep, when the first ob-
j.ect that met my view was a large hideous looking fellow,
CQming at me, with a light in one hand, and a drawn pistol
in the other. I immediately sprang from my bed ; but, be-

144 THE SPY unmasked ; OR
fore I could reach my gun, he discharged his pistol at me — ¦
happily without effect. I instantly returned his fire ; but,
being in a scuffle, my aim was imperfect, and the shot, of
course, ineffectual. I then grappled with him, and soon
had him on the floor, completely at my mercy,
" At this moment, however, finding myself, amidst the
Smoke and confusion, assailed by three others, I was obliged
to relinquish my fallen enemy, who sprang upon his
feet, while I was defending myself against this formidable
reinforcement. Two of them at length succeeded in
making themselves masters of my hands and arms, which
they held extended, while a third presented a pistol to my
breast, with the manifest intention of blowing me through
the body. But this was prevented by the humane inter
ference of him who had just recovered his feet,
" ' Don't shoot the d  d rascal !' exclaimed he. • Let
us pound him to death !'
" And, sure enough, at it they went ; but soon found
that I had feet and hands as well as themselves. More
than one of them was saluted with a kick in the wind-
chest that shortened his breath ; and, notwithstanding their
superior numbers, several of them got a flooring, from a
pair of fists that had seen some service.
" But they finally proved too powerful for me ; when,
exhausted with exertion and loss of blood, I fell on the
floor in a state of insensibility,"
Supposing that they had now consummated their bloody
purpose, these merciless marauders left their senseless vic
tim weltering in his gore, and returned to the apartment of
his brother-in-law, who was not in a much more enviable
situation ; while the shrieks of women, and the cries of
children, added to the distress and confusion of the scene.
The villains then proceeded to plunder the house.
They broke open every drawer and closet they could find ;
and not a single portable article, of the most trifling value,

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 145
was left behind. Among other things, they took the
clothes and musket of our fallen hero, together with a sum
of money belonging to his brother-in-law. They then de
parted with their booty, leaving the family in a situation
that baffles description.*
But these midnight assassins had happily thought more
of their plunder, than of their personal safety. The re
port of fire-arms had alarmed the neighbours, who hastily
assembled and pursued the retreating ruffians, whom they
finally overtook on the bank of the Croton. They
were considered as outlaws, undeserving of quarter.
Those who escaped the fire of their pursuers, were driven
into the river, and several of them drowned ! On the fall
of the'stream, in the ensuing spring, the musket of our
hero, with SGjme other articles, were found and restored,
Crosby recovered very slowly from bis wounds and
bruises, so that it was several months before he was fit for
active duty (d^^ kind. The health of his brother-in-law
was much SK' speedily restored ; but the event itself
was one of too much consequence to every individual con
cerned, to be easily forgotten-
In the mean time, throi^b the influence of the Marquis
La Fayette, an alliance Jgd been formed between France
and the United States of America, This event gave a
new and brighter aspect to affairs ; and was soon follow
ed by the active co-operation of a French army and fleet.
La Fayette himself had been appointed a major-general,
by Congress, at an early period of the war ; but, as yet,
held no separate command. He had, however, distin
guished himself, in several engagements, by the side of
Washington ; and, at the battle of Bxandywine, received
a severe wound. While posted at Barren Hill, in Penn-'
* The robbery of Harvey Birch by the Skinners, bears some resem-
Wance to this affair.— See the Spy, Vol. i. p. 156.
19 •*¦'.¦¦-?•'¦¦•

14t> THE SPY UNMASKED ; OK
sylvania, with a detachment of two thousand five hundred
men, an attempt was made by General Grant, at the head
of seven thousand British troops, to surprise him. But the
Marquis defeated his design by a masterly retreat, which
did him much honour. He also acted a conspicuous part
at the battle of Monmouth,* where victory perched on
the standard of freedom.
Time rolled its ceaseless course, and the great contest
was continued with various success ; dame Fortune some
times smiling on one party, and sometimes on the other.
While the enemy could boast of his successful depredations
at Rhode-Island,'Egg-Harbour, Nantucket, New-Haven,
and various other places, the Americans could co^ratu-
late themselves on Wayne's glorious victory at Stony-
Point ;t the enemy's Tepulse at Rhode-Island, by General
Sullivan ;| and on the success of Major Lee, at Pawles'
Hook.§ Although they had to deplore the unfortunate

* In this affair the enemy left four officers and |I^Ben dead on tbe
field of battle, who were buried by the Americans ; the^Rso lett four offi
cers and forty men wounded. Several died on both sides from the exces
sive heat of the weather, it being the 28th of June,- and the thermometer
at 96. ^
t General Wayne took Stony Point, by assault, on the 16th July, 1779.
Lieutenant-colonel Johnson, commandS, and five hundred and forty-
three men were taken prisoners. The enemy lost sixty-three hillec!, and
the Americans fifteen, with eighty-three wounded, thirty of them very
badly. Wayne was wuonded in the head with a market baB.
t In this affair the enemy lost 38 killed, and 210 wounded ; 12 missing ;
total loss, 260. The American (oss was much less.
§ On the 19th of July, l77&, Major Lee, of the Virginia cavalry, sur
prised the enemy's postal Pawles' Hook. Major Sutherland, who com
manded the fort, with a number of Hessians, escaped ; thirty of the gar
rison were killed, and seven officers and 150 men taken. The American
loss was only six killed and wounded. Lee, according to his orders, re
treated immediately. A lai-ge British force being in the vicinity pre
vented his destroying the barracks and artillery. Lee was a man of chi-
valric spirit and enterprise, and commanded the finest corps of cavalry
that Washington could boast of. This active oificer and amiable gentle
man distinguished himself on many occasions during the war, and is, no
doubt, the " MsijorDunwoody" of Cooper's Spy.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 147
surprise of Colonel Baylor, at Tappan, by the British
General Gray, who ordered no quarter to be given to the
Americans ; yet they had the consolation of several bril
liant achievements, on their own part, which were unsul
lied by a single act of inhumanity, or a drop of needless
blood. The history of our hero furnishes no event of interest,
since the midnight assault of his enemies, until we find
him holding a subordinate command in the elegant corps
of the Marquis La Fayette,
Two brigades had been selected from the different regi
ments in the main army, by Washington himself, as a com
pliment to his gallant young friend, and fellow-labourer
in the glorious cause of hberty. When duly organized,
they were paraded and reviewed by the commander-in-
chief, with all his general officers, who were unanimously
of the opinion that the whole army could not furnish a
more excellent corps of light infantry. They were then
presented, in form, to the young marquis, who was so de
lighted with his command, that he immediately equipped
them, at his own individual expense, in a style of superior
elegance. To every officer he presented an elegant
sword, and the privates were clothed in a beautiful uni
form, " He infused into this corps a spirit of pride and^
emulation, viewing it as one formed and modelled accord
ing to his own wishes, and as deserving his highest confi
dence.- They -were the pride of his heart — he was the
idol of their regard. They were constantiy panting for
an opportunity of accomplishing some signal achievement
« worthy of his and their character, and their wishes were
ultimately gratified."
A detachment from this corps, commanded by Colonel
Van Cortiandt, was stationed on the east side the Hudson,
to manoeuvre on the « Neutral Ground," where the inha
bitants were now continually exposed to the ravages and

14S THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
insults of refugees and tories. One company of this de-
* tachment was commanded by Crosby, during the absence
of his captain to the north ; and was not unfrequentiy en
gaged in some interesting affair with the enemy's outposts
and patroles.
The situation of the " Neutral Ground," at this period,
was painfully interesting to the patriot as well as the phi
lanthropist. The country was rich and fertile, and the
farms appeared to have been advantageously cultivated ;
but it now wore the marks of a country in ruins. A large
proportion of the proprietors having abandoned their farms,
the few that remained found it impossible to harvest the
produce. The meadows and pastures were covered with
grass of a summer's growth, and thousands of bushels of
apples and other fruit were ripening on the trees, for no
other purpose than to fall and rot on the ground !
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth.
The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover,
Wantmg the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,
Conceiv)$s by idleness : and nothing teems,
Bot hateful docks, rough thistles, keclssies, burs.
Losing both beauty and utility.
And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges.
Defective in their natures, grow to wildness. Shaes. Hek. V.
Those of the inhaibitants of the " Neutral Ground" who
were tories, had joined their friends in New-York ; while
the whigs had retired into the interior of the country.
Some of each side had taken up arms, and were now the
most cruel and deadly foes. Within the British line, were
hordes of banditti, consisting of lawless villains, who de
voted themselves to the most rapacious pillage and robbery
among the defenceless inhabitants between the lines, many
of whom were dragged off to New-York, after witnessing
the plunder of their houses and farms. These shameless
marauders were known by the names of coio-boys and

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY, 149
refagees ; who, by their atrocious deeds, had become a
scourge and terror to the people.
In the vicinity of the American hues, was another class
of robbers, equally unprincipled, but still more criminal,
because they committed their depredations under the
mask of patriotism. These were called skinners, and pro
fessed to be whigs ; while the cow-boys claimed the title of
loyalists. The lust of plunder alone was the governing
impulse of each.
Numerous instances occurred of these miscreants sub
jecting defenceless persons to cruel tortures, to compel
them to deliver up their money, or to disclose the places
where it had been secreted. It was not uncommon for
them to hang a man by his neck till apparently lifeless ;*
then restore him ; repeat the experiment, and leave him
for dead.
While Crosby was on duty in the vicinity of Teller's
Point, where the waters of the Croton empty into
Tappan Bay, a British sloop of war came up the river and
anchored in the stream, opposite the Point, With an un
conquerable predilection for stratagem, our hero imme
diately concerted a plot, for the sole purpose, as he says,
of affording " a little sport for his soldiers," He, accord
ingly, proceeded down to the Point, accompanied by six
men ; five of whom, besides himself, concealed themselves
in the woods, which grew a short distance from the shore,
while the other paraded the beach, so as to display La
Fayette's uniform in so conspicuous a manner as to attract
the notice of the officers on board the vessel,
#• The enemy swallowed the bait ; and a boat soon put off
from the sloop of war, manned with eleven men, under the
* In Cooper's description of the preparations for hanging a Skinner, by
a leader of the Kefugees, he says, the Skinner " had so often resorted to
a similar expedient to extort information or plunder, that he by no means
fdt the terror an unpractised man would have suffered, at these ominous
movements."— See Spy,' Vol, ii. p. 364.

150 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
command of a lieutenant, to make a prisoner of this one
yankee, who precipitately fled into the woods, as the biffge
approached the shore. The EngUshmen followed, threaten
ing to shoot the fugitive unless he stopped and surren
dered. As soon as the pursuers had passed his own little party,
which were scattered in various directions, Crosby ex
claimed —
" Come on, my boys ! Now we have them !'*
At this signal every man sprang up in his place, with a
shout that made the welkin ring; making, at the same
time, such a rustlmg in the bushes, that the British,
thinking themselves surrounded by a superior force, 'sur
rendered without resistance. On the next day they were
marched to Fishkill, afid confined in the old Dutch
church. Van Cortlandt's detachment was small ; but by a well-
managed finesse, he often succeeded in deceiving the
enemy, as to its real numbers. He would occasionafly
approach the British lines; and, posting his men in scat
tered positions, among the hills, cause each squad to beat
to arms successively. They would then show themselves
to the British, and manoeuvre in such a manner as to ap
pear like reinforcements coming down to join the main
body. This ruse de guerre often deterred tbe enemy from
pursuing his predatory excursions against the defenceless
inhabitants of the " Neutral Ground."
Van Cortlandt's detachment, however, was at length
ordered to West-Point, and from thence to the main army
at Tappan, in New- Jersey ; where Crosby remained untir
his stipulated term of service had expired. In the mean
time, the following incident occurred, for the authenticity
of which we have the testimony of Van Cortiandt him- |
self ; although the particulars, it is believed, have never
before been published.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 151
A young man, of Peekskill, by the name of John Pauld
ing, while serving his country in the Westchester militia,
was taken prisoner, and sent to the city of New- York.
Whether he was confined in a sugar-house, or the pro-
tost,* as it was then called, we have not been informed ;
nor do we know the length of time he remained a captive.
It was in the summer of 1780, however, about the period
that a celebrated satirical poem was published in New-
York, ebtitied the " Cow-Chase,"t from the pen of John
Andre, adjutant-genersJ in the British army,
Thosgh vigilantly watched, Paulding was allowed the
liberty of bis prison-yard, a capacious enclosure, sur
rounded by a strong high feirce. By bribing a coloured
woman, who lived in the vicinity, to furnish him with a
ladder, he one night effected his escape from the yard ;
and, after remaining concealed some time in her ceUar,
succeeded in reaching the North River, undiscovered.
Here he found a boat, and finally landed in safety, on the
Jersey shore, near Hobokgn. He then made the best of
his way to the American army at Tappan, where he re
lated Ms adventure to his fellow-townsman. Colonel Van
Cortiandt, whc»e assistance he solicited, in proceeding
to Peekskill. Van Cortiandt, accordingly, supplied him
with money, furnished him with a pass, and procured him
a passage across the river.
After landing on the eastern side of the Hudson, Pauld
ing directed his course homeward; but had not proceeded
* The present debtor's jail,
i f This bitter satire, the reader will dcubtless recollect, was directed
^lainst the American Brigadier-General Wayne, tbe hero of Stony
Point ; whom the poet accuses of stealing cattle for the use of the Ameri
can army. The poem concludes with the foUowing prophetic stanza :
" And now I close my epic strain,
I tremble as I show it,
« Lest this same warrior-drover Wayne
Should ever catch the poet."

152 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
far, when he met two of his former companions in arms,
David Williams and Isaac Van Wart ; who hailed his re
turn with joy, and heartily congratulated him on his for
tunate escape. After some conversation, they prevailed
upon Paulding to relinquish his intention of going directly
to Peekskill, and to accompany them on an excursion
down the " Neutral Ground," towards the British lines,
where they were going, they said, " to have some fun with
the cow-boys." Young and enterprising, Paulding readily
acceded to the proposal ; and, after providing himself
with a musket, and other requisites, he accompanied his
reckless associates to I'arrytown, where they achieved an
adventure that immortalized their names, aud saved their
country from inevitable ruin.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 153

CHAPTER XIV.
THE SPY AND THE TRAITOR.

-Is there not some chosen curse,

Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Ued with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
Who owes his greatness to his cCnntry's ruin ! Addison.
About the middle of September, the commander-iii
•chief, attended by Generals La Fayette and Knox, with
a splendid retinue, left the American camp in New-Jersey,
,and proceeded to Hartford, in Connecticut, for the pur
pose of holding a conference with the commanding officers
of the French fleet and army, which had lately arrived at
Rhode Island. In the mean time, the command of the
American army devolved on Major-General Greene,
whose head-quarters were at Tappan, where the corps to
which Crosby was attached, was now stationed.
A week had elapsed since the departure of Washington,
and no incident of importance had occurred. Greene
had learned, through the medium of bis spies, that some
secret expedition was on foot, at the city of New-York ;
but of its nature and direction, he could not obtain the
smallest hint. On the ninth day, however, at three o'clock
in the morning, an alarm was spread through the Ameri
can camp ; and, in a few minutes, all were under arms.
A detachment, consisting of two regiments, was imme
diately ordered to march to West Point, with all possible
expedition ; and the rest of the troops were directed to
hold themselves in readiness to march at a moment's
yfarning. While every one was pondering in his own mind the
20

154 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
probable object of this sudden movement, and vainly en
deavouring to conjecture the cause, a general order was
;%romulgated, which soon explained it to the whole army,
filling every breast with astonishment and indignation. —
The following communication, in the orders of General
Greene, was read by the Adjutants to their respective
regifaents : —
" Treason, of the blackest dye, was yesterday disco
vered. General Arnold, who comrnanded at West Point,
lost to every sentiment of honour, of private and public
obligation, was about to deliver up that important post into
the hands of the enemy. Such an event must have given
the American cause a dangerous, if not a fatal, wound. —
Happily the treason has been timely discovered, to prevent
the fatal ^misfortune. The providential train of circum
stances, which led to it, affords the most convincing proofs
that the liberties of America are the object of Divine protec
tion. At the same time that the treason is to be regretted,
the, General cannot help congratulating tbe army on the
happy discovery. Our enemies, despairing of carrying
their point by force, are practising every base art to effect,
by bribery and corruption, what they cannot accomplish
in a manly way.
" Great honour is due to the American army, that this
is the first instance of treason of the kind, where many
were to be expected from the nature of our dispute. The
brightest ornament in the character of the American sol
diers is, their having ^been proof against all the arts and
seductions of an insidious enemy.
" Arnold has made his escape to the enemy ; but Ma
jor Andre, the Adjutant-General of the British army, who
came out, as a spy, to negociate the business, is our pri
soner." The particulars of Andre's arrest and trial are familiar

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBV. 155
to every reader.* Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson was theiv
the commanding officer on the American lines, above the
neutral ground ; and to him was Andre conducted by his
incorruptible captors, Paulding, Van Wart, and Williams ;
whom, in our last chapter, we left on their way to Tarry-
town. The prisoner immediately requested Jameson to
inform Arnold, by letter, that John Anderson was taken
on his way to New-York, with which request the Lieute
nant- Colonel immediately complied. Arnold received the
letter about ten o'clock in the morning, while at breakfast.
Two of Washington's aids. Major Shaw and Dr. M'Henry,
had just arrived, and were at breakfast at Arnold's table.
His confusion was visible, but no one could divine the
cause. Struck with the pressing danger of his situation, mo
mentarily expecting Washington's return from Hartford,
the traitor called instantiy for a horse.
" A horse !" exclaimed he, as he started from the table,
" Any one — even if a wagon horse !"
He then bade a hasty adieu to his wife, and enjoined a
positive order on the messenger not to inform any one
that he was the bearer of a letter from Colonel Jameson,
he repaired to his barge, and ordered the coxswain, with
eight oarsmen, to proceed down the river, to the sloop-
of-war Vulture, which he reached in safety, under the
protection of a flag, and which immediately set sail for
New-York, Washington arrived at Arnold's quarters in two hours
after the traitor had escaped. Not finding Arnold at
home, and being informed that he had gone to West Point,
Washington passed over the river to view the works at
that post ; but not finding Arnold, he returned, in the
hope of nfeeting him at his quarters. But here he was
* See Appendix, No. XVIII

I5ff THE SPY UNMASKED ; Oil
ftiagain disappointed, for no person could account for his
absence. Mrs. Arnold was now in her chamber, in great a^tation
and distress, deprived of her reason, and Dr. Eustis in
attendance. At a lucid interval, she requested to see
Washington ; but by the time he reached the chamberj,
her distraction returned, and she knew him not. He then
withdrew, and, repairing to the dining-room, sat down to
dinner, but soon arose again with apparent Station. He
then took Colohel Lamb aside, and expressed to him his
suspicion that Arnold had deserted to the enemy. In
less than two hours it was ascertained that the conjecture
was too well founded ; for a despatch arrived from Colo
nel Jameson, with an account of the capture of Andre,
accompanied by his own letter of confession. The pri
soner was conducted to West Point, and from thence to
head-quarters at Tappan, where preparations were made
for his trial by a court-martial.
Washington immediately proceeded to the camp, at
Tappan ; and, the moment he arrived, sent for Major
Lee, who was posted, with the Virginia light-horse, some
distance in front. " This officer repaired to bead-quarters
with celerity, and found the General in his marquee alone,
busily engaged in writing. So soon as Lee entered, he
was requested to take a seat, and a bundle of papers,
lying on the table, was given to him for perusal,
" In these papers, much information was detailed, tend
ing to prove that Arnold was not alone in the base con
spiracy just detected ; but that the poison had spread ;
and that a Major-General, whose name was not concealed,
was certainly as guilty as Arnold himself,
" This information had just been received by Washing
ton, through bis confidential agents in New- York ; and
Lee immediately suggested the probability that the whole
was a contrivance of Sir Henry Clinton, in order to de-

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 157
stroy that confidence between the commander and his
officers, on which the success of military operations de
pend.
' " « The suggestion,' replied Washington, ' is plausible,
and deserves due consideration. It early occurred to my
own mind, and has not been .slightly regarded. But the
same suggestion applies to no officer more forcibly than a
few days ago it would have done to General Arnold, now
known to be a traitor.
" « I have sent for you, sir, in the expectation that you
have in your corps individuals capable and willing to un
dertake an indispensable, delicate, and hazardous project.
Whoever comes forward on this occasion, will lay me
under great obligations personally ; and, in behalf of the
United States, I will, reward him amply. No time is to
be lost ; he must proceed, if possible, this night. My
object is to probe to the bottom the afflicting intelligence
contained in the papers you have just read, to seize Ar
nold, and, by getting him, to save Andre. They are all
connected. While my emissary is engaged in preparing
meaos for the seizure of Arnold, the guilt of others can
be traced ; and the timely delivery of Arnold to me, will
possibly put it into my power to restore the amiable and
unftMrtunate Andre to his friends.' "*
Lee readily undertook to find a member of bis corps
capable of executing this hazardous service, but doubted
whether he would consent to engage in an enterprise, the
first step to which was desertion. The person he selected
was the Sergeant-Major of the corps, Champe by name,
and a Virginian by birth ; who, after much persuasion,
consented to undertake it. He that night deserted to the
enemy; and, though closely pursued, reached Powles'
Hook in safety, and was taken on board a British gallej^,
? See the Memoirs of Major Heiiry Lee.

158 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR.
which conveyed him to New-York, where he was closely
examined by Sir Henry Clinton, who gave him a letter of
introduction to Arnold, who immediately appointed him
one of his recruiting sergeants.
In the mean time, the interposition of Sir Henry CUnton,
who was extremely anxious to save his much-loved aid-
de-camp, s,tin continued ; and it was expected that the
examination of witnesses, and the defence of the prisoner,
would protract the decision of the court of inquiry, which
assembled on the twenty-ninth of the month, and ^ve
sufficient time for the consummation of the project com
mitted to Champe, from whom information had just been
received that gave some hopes of his success.
But a complete disappointment took place from a quar
ter unforeseen and unexpected. Andre disdained defence,
and prevented the examination of witnesses, by confessing
the character in which he stood. He was consequently
declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer accord
ingly. Washington" approved the sentence, and ordered his
execution to take place on the first day of October, at five
o'clock in the afternoon. In 'this decision he was war
ranted by the very unpromising intelligence contained in
another letter from Champe, which he had just received ;
by the still existing implication of other officers in Arnold's
conspiracy ; by a due regard to public opinion ; and by
real tenderness to the prisoner himself.
Neither Congress nor the nation could have been, with
propriety, informed of the cause of the delay, had any
been interposed ; and without such information, it must
have excited in both, alarm and suspicion. The secret
was known to none but Washington, Lee, Champe, and
a confidential agent in New-York. Andre himself could
not have been intrusted with it ; and would, consequently,
have attributed the unlooked-for event to the expostula-

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 159
tion and exertion of Sir Henry Clinton, which would not
fail to produce in his breast expectations of ultimate relief ;
to excite which would have been cruel, as the realization
of such expectation depended only on a possible, but im
probable, contingency.
On the first day of October, at the hour appointed, a
large concourse of people assembled to witness the exe
cution of the gallant and unfortunate young officer. The
gallows was erected, and the grave and coffin prepared ;
hufa flag-of-truce arrived with a communication from Sir
Henry Clinton, making another and further proposals for
the release of Major Andre ; in consequence of which the
execution was postponed until twelve o'clock on the fol
lowing day.
This flag was accompanied by the British General Ro
bertson, with Andrew Elliott and William Smith, Esquires,
for the purpose of pleading for the release of Major Andre,
the royal army being in the greatest affliction on the oc
casion. Elliott and Smith, not being military officers, were not
permitted to land ; but General Greene was appointed,
by the commander-in-chief, to meet Robertson, at Dobb's
ferry, and to receive his communications. He had, how
ever, nothing material to urge, but that Andre had come
on shore under the sanction of a flag, and therefore could
not be considered as a spy. But this plea was contra
dicted by Andre's own confession.
" Having failed in this point, Robertson requested that
the opinion of disinterested persons might be taken ; and
proposed Generals Knyphausen and Rochambeau, as
proper persons. This proposition could not be acceded to.
" Robertson then had recourse to threats of retaliation,
on some people in New- York and Charleston ; but he
was told that such conversation could not be heard nor
understood.

160 ^UE SPIT UNMASKED ; OR
" He next urged the release of Andre on motives of
humanity, saying he wished an intercourse of such civili
ties as might lessen the horrors of war, and cited instances
of Sir Henry Clinton's merciful disposition ; adding that
Andre possessed a great share of that gentleman's affec
tion and esteem, and that he would be infinitely obliged if
he was spared. He offered, that if his earnest wishes
were complied with, to engage that any prisoner in their
possession, whom Washington might name, should be im
mediately set at liberty."*
But all intercession was fruitless ; and least of all availed
a letter to Washington, of which Robertson was the bearer,
from the traitor Arnold, filled with threats of retaliation^
aud the accountability of Washington for the torrents of
blood that might be spilt, if he should order the execution
of Andre ! It is difficult to say which created the most
astonishment in the breast of Greene — that Arnold should
have the consummate effrontery to write such a letter ;
or that Robertson should consent to be the bearer of it.
Nothing, of course, was effected by this interview, and
the messengers returned in despondency to New- York.
Andre, in the mean time, during his confinement, trial,
and condemnation, evinced a composure and dignity of
mind, that enlisted the sympathies of all in his favour. —
Not a murmur escaped him ; while the civilities and at
tentions bestowed on him, were gratefully and politely
acknowledged. Having left a mother and two sisters in
England, he was heard to mention them in terms of the
tenderest affection ; and in his letter to Sir Henry Clinton,
he recommended them to his particular attention.
Crosby assures us that, though every one acknowledged
the policy of the sentence, there was scarcely one that
spoke of hisapproachiiig fate without evincing the deepest
* See Thacher's Journal, p. 871.

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 161
emotions of sympathy. The principal guard officer, who
was constantly in the room with Andre, informed Crosby
t^sat when the fatal hour arrived, and the prisoner was
summoned to attend, he heard and complied without any
visible emotion ; and while all present were more or less
affected, he retained a serene countenance, with calmness
and composure of mind.
The prisoner walked from the stone house in which he
had been confined, between two subaltern officers, arm
in arm. A large detachment of troops was paraded, and
an immense concourse of people assembled, to witness
the awful ceremony. As the situation of Crosby, in the
procession, was not so convenient for observation, we will
give the remaining particulars in the language of Dr.
Thacher, to whose excellent journal we have already ac
knowledged ourselves largely indebted.
" During the solemn march to the fatal spot," says the
Doctor, "I was so near as to observe every movement,
* and participate in every emotion, which the melancholy
scene was calculated to produce. The eyes of the im
mense multitude were fixed on the prisoner ; Who, rising
superior to the fears of death, appeared as if conscious of
the dignified deportment which he displayed. He be
trayed no want of fortitude, but retained a complacent
smile on his countenance, and politely bowed to several
gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully re
turned. . " 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 at his side. Instantiy recovering his com-
21

163 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR
posure, he said — ' I am reconciled to my death, but I de
test the mode.'
" While waiting, and standing near the gallows," con
tinues Dr. Thacher, " I observed some degree of trejrid,a-
tion ; 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 readi
ness, he stepped quickly into the wagon ; and, at this mo
ment, he appeared to shrink ; but, instantiy elevating his
head with firmness, he said, ' It will be but a momentary
pang ;' and taking from his pocket two white handker
chiefs, the provost marshall, 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 spec
tators. " The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped
the noose over his own head, and adjusted it to his neck,
without the assistance of the awkward executioner. Colo
nel Scammel now informed him that he had an opportu
nity to speakj if he desired it. He raised the handker
chief from his eyes, and said — « I pray you to bear me
witness that I meet my fate like a braye man.' The wagon
being now removed from under him, he was suspended,
and instantly expired. It proved, indeed, 'but a mo
mentary pang.'
" He was dressed in his royal regimentals and boots ;
and his remains, in the same dress, were placed^ an or
dinary coffin, and interred at the foot of the gallows ; and
the spot was consecrated by the tears of thousands."*
The enterprise of Champe was well concerted, and
* In the autumn of 1821, the remains of Msjor Andre were jlisinferred,
and transported to England. , '

MEMOIRS OF ENOCH CROSBY. 163
would probably have succeeded but for an unforeseCUr ac
cident. On the day preceding the night fixed upon for
the execution of the plot, Arnold removed his quarters to
another part of the town ; and Champe, with all Arnold's
new recruits, were transferred from their barracks to one
of the transports. He was thus compelled to proceed
with Arnold to Virginia, where he made his escape, and
rejoined the American army soon after it had passed tbe
Congaree, ia pursuit of Lord Rawdon.

J64 THE SPY UNMASKED ; OR

CONCLUSION.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreathr.
Our bruise(^ arms hung up for monuments ;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches, to delightful measures ;
Gi'im-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front.
Sbaesfeabe.
A FEW weeks after the foregoing events, intelligence
was received of a very brilliant exploit of the militia in
North Carolina, under Colonels Campbell, Cleveland,
Shelby, and Sevier ; who, with about three thousand vo
lunteers, attacked and defeated Major Ferguson, at the
head of a large force of refugees and tories. Ferguson,
with one hundred and fifty of his men, were killed, and
eight hundred and ten taken prisoners, of whom one hun
dred and fifty were wounded. They also took fifteen
hundred stand of arms. Of the Americans, Colonel Wil
liams was mortally wounded ; about twenty killed, and a
number disabled. Ten of the prisoners were immediately
hung as traitors. This is called the Battie of King's
Mountain. But few incidents occurred in the vicinity of New- York,
during the ensuing winter and spring. In July following,
the French and American armies formed a junction at
White Plains, from whence they proceeded to New-Jersey.
After some ingenious manoeuvring to deceive the British
with respect to his real designs, Washington suddenly
marched to the south, with the combined armies, leaving
Sir Henry CUnton under the apprehension of an imme
diate attack on tbe city of New- York.
The result of this southern expedition is well known.

MEMOIRS OP ENOCH CROSBY. 165
Cornwallis surrendered his army at Yorktown, and the
ministry of England gave up the contest in despair. Our
independence was acknowledged, peace restored, and the
smiles of joy scattered over the long-afflicted country.
Crosby remained, with the division of the army which
was left under the command of Heath, for the defence of
the posts in the Highlands, until the period of his engage
ment had expired. He then retired to Southeast, where his
father died shortly afterwards ; and there he has since re
sided up to the present day.
He cultivates a small farm, the product of his own in
dustry, since the peace of 1783 ; having received, for all
his revolutionary services, only the trifling pittance of two
hundred and fifty dollars.* He has had two wives, the last
of which was the widow of Colonel Greene ; and he is
the father of four children, two sons and two daughters,
who are grown up, and settled in the county of West
chester. For twenty-eight years, he was justice of the
peace in the town of Southeast ; and for the last fourteen
years, he has held the office of deacon in the Presbyterian
church. He has likewise held that of deputy-sheriff for
the county. He is universally respected by bis neigh
bours, acquaintance, and fellow-citizens generally ; and
now enjoys a " green old age," which, we trust, will be
succeeded by a happy immortality ; for Enoch Crosby
was, " for years, a faithful and unrequited servant of his
country. Though man does not, may God reward him
for his conduct."t
¦>= " Never !'* said Birch, speaking out ; " was it for money I did all
this."— Spj, Vol. ii. p. 274.
t See the concluding paragraph of the " Spy."

APPENDIX.

NoTjb I.-— Page 31.
D£STRVCTI0N OF THE TEA, IN BOSTON UABBOUX.
The Americans, determined to oppose the revenue system
of the English parliament, in every possible shape, considered
the attempt of the East India Company, to evade the resolu
tions of the colonies, and dispose of teas in America, as an in
direct mode of taxation, sanctioned by the authority of parlia
ment. Several public meetings were held on the subject, par
ticularly in die town of Boston. % At one of these meetings,
while the assembled multitude were in qUiet consultation, on
the safest mode to prevent the sale and consumption t>f ad
herb, noxious at least to the political constitution, the debates
were interrupted by the entrance of the sheriff, with an order
from the governor, styling them an illegal assembly, and direct
ing their immediate dispersion.
This authoritative mandate was treated with great contempt,
and the sheriff instantly hissed out of the house. A confused
murmur ensued, both within and without the walls ; but in a
few moments all was again quiet, and the meeting adjourned
without delay.
Within an hour after this was known abroad, there appeared
a great number of persons, clad hke the aborigines of the wil
derness, witii tomahawks in tiieir hands, and clubs on their
shoulders, who, without the feast molestation, marched through

168 AppUNUis.
the streets with silent solemnity, and amidst innumerable spec^
tators, proceeded to the wharves, boarded the ships, demanded
the keys, and without much deliberation knocked open the
chests, and emptied several thousand weight of the finest teas
into the ocean. No opposition was made, though surrounded
by the king's ships ; all was silence and dismay.
This done, the procession returned through the town in the
same order and solemnity as observed in the outset of their at
tempt. No other disorder took place, and it was observed the
stillest night ensued that Boston had enjoyed for several months.
The number of persons disguised as Indians is variously stated
— none put it lower than 60, none higher than 80, The de
struction was effected by the disguised persons, and some
young men who volunteered ; one of the latter collected the
tea which fell into the shoes of himself and companies, and
put it into a phi'al, and sealed it up ; — which phial iS now in
his possession, — containing the same tea. The contrivers of
this measure, and those who carried it into effect, will never be
known ; some few persons have been mentioned as being
among .the disguised ; but there are many and obvious reasons
why secresy then, and concealment since, were necessary. —
None of those persons who were confidently said to have been
of the party, (except some who were then minors or very
young men,) have ever admitted that they were so. Mr. Sa
muel Adams is thought to have been in the counseUing of this
exploit, and many other men who were leaders in the political
affairs of tbe times ; and the hall of council is said to have
been in the back room of Edes and Gill's printing office, at
the corner of the alley leading to Brattle-street church from
Court-street. There are very few alive now, who helped to
empty the chests of tea, and these few will probably be as pru
dent as those who have gone before them."

APPENDIX. 169

No. II.— Page 34.

FEMALE PATRIOTISM.

The following anecdote, which is too well authenticated to
be disputed, furnishes one instance, among thousands, of that
heroic spirit and love of liberty which characterized the Ame
rican females during the struggle for independence.
"A good lady — -we knew her when she had grown old — in
1776, lived on the sea-board, about a day's march firom Bos
ton, where the British army then was. By some unaccounta
ble accident, a rumour was spread, in town and country, in
and about there, that the regulars were on a full march for
that place, and would probably arrive in three hours at farthest.
This was afler the battle of Lexington, and all, as might be well
supposed, was in sad confusion — some were boiling with rage
and full of fight, some with fear and confusion, some hiding
their treasures, and others flying for life. In this wild moment,
when most people, in some way or other, were frightened from
their property, our heroine, who haa {wo sons, one about nine
teen years of age, the other about si^^^n, was seen by our in
formant, preparing them to discharge their duty. The eldest
she was able to equip in fine style — she took her husband's
fowling-piece, ' made for duck or plover,' (the good man being
absent on a coasting voyage to Virginia,) and with it the pow
der horn and sliot-bag ; but the lad thinking the duck and
goose shot not quite the size to kill regulars, his mother took
a chisel, cut up her pewter spoons, and hammered them into
slugs, and put them into his bag, and he set off in great earnest
but thought he would call one moment and see the parson,
who said, ' Well done, my brave boy-^^God preserve you' —
and on he went in the way of his duty. The youngest was
importunate for his equipments, but his mother could find
nothing to arm him with but an old rusty sword ; the boy
seemed rather unwilling to risk himself with this alone, but
lingered ip the street, in a state of hesitation, when his mother

J^(5f APPENDIX.
thus upbraided him. '• You John H*****, what will your fa
ther say, if he hears that a child of his is afraid to meet the
British ? — go along : beg or borrow a gun, or you will find
one, child — some coward, I dare say, will be running away,
then take his gun and march forward, and if you come back,
and I hear you have not behaved like a man, I shall carry the
blush of shame on my face to the grave.' She then shut the
doOr, wiped the tear from her eye, and waited the issue ; the
bdy joined the marc)]. Such a woman could not have cowards
for her sons. Instances of refined and delicate pride and af
fection occurred, at that period, every day, in different places ;
and in fact this disposition and feeling was then so common,
that it now operates as one great cause of our not having more
facts of this kind recorded. What few there are remembered
should not be lost. Nothing great or glorious was ever
jkcbieved which women did not act in^ advise, or consent to."

No. III.— Page 36.
BATTI^^pF BUNKER HILL.
The heights of Charl'^stown were so situated as to make the
possession of thfem a matter of great consequence, to either of
the contending parties. Orders were therefore issued, June
16tb, by the provincial commanders, that a detachment of a
thousand men should intrench upon Breed's Hill.* Here the
Americans, between midnight and morning, with uncommon
expedition and silence, threw up a small rfedoybt, which the
British did not discover till themornin|)t of the 17th, when they
began an incessant firing, and continued it till aflernoon. With
the intrepidity of veteran soldiers, the Americans bore this fire,
?tnd proceeded to finish their redoubt, and to throw up a breast
work, extending eastward of it to the bottom of the hill. —
About noon, General Gage detached Major-General Howe,
* Historians, through mistake, have called the hill vvhete the battle was
fought. Bunker mil, which is a quarter of a mile north of Breed's Or Bnucll'S
Hilj, whert the batUe w«s fought.

APPENDIX. 11^1
4nd Brigadier-General Pigot, with the flower of his army, in two
detachments, amounting in the whole to nearly 3000 men. They
landed at a point about 150 or 200 rods southeast of the re
doubt, and dehberately prepared for the attack* While the
troops, who first landed, were waiting for a reinforcement, the
Americans on the left wing towards Mystic River, for their
security, pulled up some adjoining post and rail fence, and set
it down in two parallel Unes near each other, and filled the
space between with hay, which the day before was mowed and
remained in the adjacent field. The British troops, in the
mean time, formed in two fines, and about 3 o'clock advanced
slowly towards the Americans. The hills and steeples in Bos
ton, and the circumjacent country, were crowded with anxious
spectators of the dubious conflict. While some felt for the
honour of the British troops, multitudes, with a keener sensi
bility, felt for the liberties of a great and growing country, —
The attack commenced on the part of the British troops. The
Americans had the precaution, in obedience to the orders of
their commanding officer, to reserve their fire till their enemies
had approached within 10 or 12 rods of their works. They
then began a well-directed and furious discharge of small arms,
which mowed down their enemies in ranks, and occasioned a
disorderly and precipitate retreat. Their officers rallied them
with difficulty, and pushed them forward with their swords, to
a second attack. They were in the same manner put to flight
a second time. With still greater difficulty they were forced
by General HoWe to a third attack. By this time the powder
of the Americans began to fail, and their redoubt was attacked
on two sides! Under these circumstances, a retreat was or
dered ; the left wing of the Americans, northeast of the redoubt,
still continuing their fire, ignorant of what had taken place on
the right, till the British had nearly surrounded them. The
retreat was efiected, with an inconsiderable loss, considering
the greater part of the distance they had to pass wascompletejjf
«lxposed to the incessant fire of the Glasgow man-of-war, and
two floating-batteries. In this retreat, Warren fell.
During the heat of this bloody action, by order of General

172 APPENDIX.
Gage, Charlestown was set on fire, by a battery on Cbpa'
Hill, in Boston, and a party from the Somerset man-of-war,
lying in Charles River, and nearly 400 houses, including six
public buildings, were consumed, with their furniture, &.c. va
lued by nineteen men, under oath, at £156,900 specie; and
2000 persons reduced from affluence and mediocrity, to the
most aggravated poverty and exile.
The number of Americans engaged in this memorable ac
tion was only 1500. There have been few battles in modern
wars in which, all circumstances considered, there was a greater
slaughter of men than in this short engagement. Tbe loss of
the British, as acknowledged by General. Gage, amounted to
1054 men. Nineteen commissioned officers were killed, and
70 wounded. The loss of the Americans was 77 killed, 278
wounded and missing.
The death of Major-General Warren, who four days before
had received his commission, and who, having bad no command
assigned him, fought this day as a volunteer, was particularly
and greatly lamented. "To the purest patriotism, and the
most undaunted bravery, he added the eloquence of an accom
plished orator, and the wisdom of an able statesman."
.It-

No. ly.— Page 46.
DOKCHESTEn HEIGHTS.
On the 22d of February, 1776, it was evident that some
great preparations were on foot, in the American army, for
some important event. Orders were received, in the hospital
department, to prepare lint and bandages, to the amount of
two thousand, for fractured Umbs and other gun-shot wounds.
On the second of March, a very heavy discharge of cannon and
mortars commenced from all the works at Cambridge and
Roxbury, which continued at intervals for two days. This, it
seems, was merely a finesse to draw the enemy's attention td

APPENDIX. 173
a wrong quarter. On the fourth, the designs of Washington
were made known to the army.
" The object in view," says Dr, Thacher, " is now gene
rally understood to be the occupying and fortifying of the ad
vantageous heights of Dorchester. A detachment of our troops
is ordered to march for this purpose this evening ; and our
regiment, with several others, has received orders to march at
4 o'clock in the morning, to relieve them. We are favoured
with a full bright moon, and the night is remarkably mild and
pleasant ; the preparations are immense ; more than three
hundred loaded carts are in motion. By the great exertions of
General Mifflin, our Quarter-Master General, the requisite
number of teams has been procured. The covering party of
eight hundred men advance in front. Then follow the carts
with the intrenching tools ; after which, the working party of
twelve hundred, commanded by General Thomas, of Kingston,
Nest in the martial procession are a train of carts, loaded with
(ascines and hay, screwed into large bundles of seven or eight
hundred weight. The whole procession moved on in solemn
silence, and with perfect order and regularity ; while the con
tinued roar of cannon serves to engage the attention and divert
the enemy from the main object.
At about four o'clock our regiment followed to the heights
of Dorchester, as a relief party. On passing Dorchester Neck
I observed a vast number of large bundles erf" screwed hay, ar
ranged in a line next the enemy, to protect our troops from a
raking fire, to which we should have been greatiy exposed,
while passing and repassing. The carts were still in motion
with materials : some of them have made three or four trips,
On the heights we found two forts in considerable forwardness,
and sufficient for a defence against small arms and grape shot.
The amount of labour performed during the night, considering
the earth is frozen eighteen inches deep, is almost incredible.
The enemy having discovered our works in the morning, com
menced a tremendous cannonade from the forts in Boston, and
from their shipping in the harbour. Cannon shot are conti
nually rolhng and rebounding over the hill ; and it is astonish-

^4 APPENOtX.
ing to observe how Uttle our soldiers are terrified by them."'--'
During the forenoon we were in momentary expectation--of
witnessing an awful scene ; nothing less than the carnage of
Breed's Hill battle was expected. The royal troops are per
ceived to be in motion^, as if embarking to pass the harbour,
and land on Dorchester shore, to attack our works. The hills
and elevations in this vicinity are covered with spectators to
witness deeds of horror in the expected conflict. His Excel
lency General Washington is present, animating and encoura
ging the soldiers, and they in their turn manifest their joy, and
express a warm desire for the approach of the enemy ; each
man knows his place, and is resolute to execute his duty. Our
breastworks are strengthened, and among the means of defence
are a great number of barrels, filled with stones and sand, ar
ranged in front of our works ; which are to be put in motion
and made to roll down the hill, to break the ranks and legs of
the assailants as they advance.. These are the preparations
for blood and slaughter ! Gracious God ! if it be determined
in thy Providence that thousands of our fellow-creatures shall
this day be slain, let thy wrath be appeased, and in mercy
grant, that victory be on the side of our suffering, bleeding,
country.  The anxious day has closed, and the enemy has
faUed to molest us. From appearances, however, there are
strong reasons to suppose, that they have only postponed their
meditated work till another day. It is presumed that the mar
tial fire, which has been enkindled in the breasts of our sol
diery, will not be extinguished during the night, and that they
will not rest quietly under theb disappointment. Early in the
morning of the 6th, our regiment was relieved from its tour of
duty, and 1 bade adieu to Dorchester heights, without being
called to dress a single wound. Not more than two or three
men were killed or wounded during the twenty-four hours. —
Some of the British troops were seen to embark, and pass
down towards the castie la:st evening, to be in readiness, it was
supposed, in conjunction with others, to attack our works this
morning ; but a most violent storm came on in the night, and
still continuing, obliges General Howe to abandon his enter-

APPENDIX. 175

prise ; and thus has a kind Providence seen fit to frustrate a
design, which must have been attended with immense slaughter
and bloodshed. General Howe must now be sensible of his
exposed situation, and be convinced of the immediate necessity
of evacuating the town of Boston, if he would prevent the
sacrifice of his fleet and army."

No. v.— Page 63.
PATRIOTIC SACRIFICES.
" From whatever cause it proceeded, it is certain, that a
disposition to do, to suffer, and to accommodate, spread from
breast to breast, and from colony to colony, beyond the reach
of human calculation. It seemed as though one mind inspired
the whole. The merchants put far behind them the gains of
trade, and /cheerfully submitted to a total stoppage of business,
in obedience to the recommendations of men, invested with
no legislative powers. The cultivators of the soil, with great
unanimity, assented to the determination, that the hard-earned
produce of their farms should remain unshipped, although in
case of a free exportation, many would have been eager to,
have purchased it from them, at advanced prices. The sons
and daughters of ease renounced imported conveniences, and
• voluntarily engaged to eat, drink, and wear, only such articles
as their country afforded. These sacrifices were made, not
from the pressure of present distress, but on tbe generous prin
ciple of sympathy, with an invaded sister colony, and the pru
dent policy of guarding against a precedent which might, in a
future day, operate against their liberties.
The season of .universal distress exhibited a striking proof
how practicable it is for mankind to sacrifice ease, pleasure,
and interest, when the mind is strongly excited by its passions.
In the midst of their sufferings, cheerfulness appeared in the
face of all the people. They counted every thing cheap in
comparison with liberty, and readily gave up whatever tended
to endanger it, A noble strain of generosity and mutual sup
port was generally excited. A great and powerful diffusion of

176 APPENDIX.
public spirit took place. The animation of the times raised'
the actors in these scenes above themselves, and excited them
to deeds of self denial, which the interested prudence of calmer
seasons can scarcely credit,"

No, VI.— Page 64,
EXECUTION OF CAPTAIN HALE, (ii « . '
The particulars of this tragical event, sanctioned by Gene
ral Hull, who was knowing to them at the time, are thus re
lated by Miss H. Adams, in her History of New England.
" The retreat of General Washington left the British in
complete possession of Long Island. What would be their
future operations, remained uncertain. To obtain information
of their situation, their strength, and future movements, was of
high importance. For this purpose, General Washington ap
plied to Colonel Knowlton, who commanded a regiment of
light infantry, which formed the van of the American army,
and desired him to adopt some mode of gaining the necessary
information. Colonel Knowlton communicated this request
to Captain Hale, of Connecticut, who was then a Captain in
bis regiment. This, young officer, animated by a sense of duty,
and considering that an opportunity presented itself by which
he might be useful to his country, at once offered himself a
volunteer for this hazardous service. He passed in disguise to
Long Island, examined every part of the British army, and ob
tained the best possible information respecting their situation
and future operations.
In his attempt to return, he was apprehended, carried before
Sir William Howe, and the proof of his object was so cleai-,
that he frankly acknowledged who he was, and what were his
views. Sir William Howe at once gave an order to the provost
niarshal to execute him the next morning.
The order was accordingly executed in a most unfeeling

APPENDIX. 177
manner, and by as great a savage as ever disgraced humanity.
A clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused him ;
a bible, for a moment's devotion, was not procured, though he
requested it. Letters, which on the morning of his execution,
he wrote to his mother, and other friends, were destroyed ; and
this very extraordinary reason given by the provost marshal,
' that the rebels should not know that they had a man in their
army, who could die with so much firmness.'
Unknown to all around him, without a single friend to offer
him the least consolation, thus fell as amiable and as worthy a
young man as America- could boast, with this as his dying ob
servation, ' that he only lamented he had but one life to lose
for his country.' How superior to the dying words of Andre.
Though tbe manner of his execution will ever be abhorred by
every friend to humanity and religion, yet there cannot be a
question but that the sentence was conformable to the rules of
war, and the practice of nations in similar cases.
It is, however, a justice due to the character of Captain
Hale, to observe, that his motives for engaging in this service
were entirely different from those which generally influence
others in similar circumstances. Neither expectation of pro
motion nor pecuniary reward, induced him to this attempt. A
sense of duty, a hope that he might in this way be useful to
his country, and an opinion which he had adopted, that every
kind of service necessary to the public good, became honoura
ble by being necessary, were the great motives which induced
him to engage in an enterprise, by which his connexions lost
a most amiable friend, and his country one of its most promis
ing supporters.
> The fate of this unfortunate young man excites the most in
teresting reflections.
To see such a character, in the flower of youth, cheerfully
treading in the most hazardous paths, influenced by the purest
intentions, and only emulous to do good to his country, without
the imputation of a crime, fall a victim to policy, must have
been wounding to the feelings even of his enemies.
Should a comparison be drawn between Major Andre and
23

17S APPENDIX.
Captain Hale, injustice- would be done to the latter, should he
not be placed on an equal ground with the former. Whilst
almost every historian of the American Revolution, has cele
brated the virtues and lamented the fate of Andre, fliaZe has
remained unnoticed, and it is scarcely knctim that such a cha^
racter ever existed.
To the memory of Andre, his country has erected the most
magnificent monuments, and bestowed on hb family the highest
honours and most liberal rewards. To the memory of Hale
not a stone has been erected, nor an inscription to preserve
his ashes from insult."

io. Vn.— Page 132.
3ATTLE OF TRENTON. .
" Washington having obtained information that the advanced
party of the enemy, consisting of about fifteen hundred Hes
sians and British light horse, under commandof Colonel Rahl,
was stationed at the village of Trenton, concerted a plan for
. taking them by surprise. For this purpose, he made choice of
Christmas night, under the idea that in consequence of the
festivity, they might be less vigilantly guarded. At this time
the whole force under his immediate command did not exceed
three thousand men. At the head of about two thousand four
hundred men,one division being commanded by General Greene,
and the other by General Sullivan, he crossed the river Dela
ware in boats, in the night of the 26th of December, during a
severe storm of snow and rain. The passage of the boats was
rendered extremely difficult and hazardous by the ice, and part
of the troops and cannon actually failed in the attempt. Having
landed on the Jersey shore, he had nine miles to march, and
he reached the village about 7 o'clock in the morning with
such promptitude and secrecy, so as to attack the enemy almost
as soon as his approach was discovered. •¦ A smart firing en-
Sued, which continued but a few minutes, when the enemy.

APPENDIX. 179
finding themselves surrounded, threw down their arms, and
surrendered as prisoners. Colonel Rahl, the commanding
officer, was mortally wounded, and seven other officers were
wounded and left at Trenton on their parole. About thirty-
five soldiers were killed, sixty wounded, and nine hundred and
forty-eight, including thirty officers, were taken prisoners,
amounting in all to one thousand and forty-eight. Of the con-
tinentalk, not more than ten, it is supposed, were killed and
wounded. General Washington re-crossed the Delaware the
same day in triumph, bringing ofi" six excellent brass cannon,
about one thousand two hundred small arms, and three stand
ards, with a quantity of baggage, &.c. This very brilUant
achievement is highly honourable to the commander-in-chief,
and to all that were engaged in the enterprise. We are san
guine in the hope that this most auspicious event will be pro
ductive of the happiest effects, by inspiriting our dejected army,
and dispelhng that panic of despair into which the people have
been plunged. General Washington allowed the Hessian pri
soners to retain their baggage, and sent them into the interior
of Pennsylvania, ordering that they be treated with favour and
humanity. This conduct, so contrary to their expectations,
excited their gratitude and veneration for their amiable con
queror, whom they styled, ' a very good rebel.' " — Thacher.

No. Vm.— Page 132.
battle of princbtok.
+4? '" After his success at Trenton, General Washington r&-
ceived considerable reinforcements of troops from Virginia and
Maryland, and some regiments of miUtia, which enabled him
again to cross the Delaware into the Jerseys, and face the
enemy. While at Trenton, Lord Cornwallis advanced to at
tack him, and a severe cannonade commenced. In the eve
ning, General Washington ordered a great number of fires to
be lighted up, and, leaving a siifficient number of men to keep

180 APPENDIX.
them burning during the night, to deceive the enemy, stole a
march with his main army, taking a circuitous route, and, at
9 o'clock the next morning, attacked three regiments of the
British, who were posted at Princeton, routed them, and drove
them from their redoubts. By this masterly manoeuvre, the
enemy lost about five hundred in killed, wounded, and prisoners.
The loss on our side is very inconsiderable in point of numbers,
but we have to lament the death of Brigadier General Mercer,
a brave officer who commanded the Virginia miUtia. The fact
is pubUshed, that after General Mercer surrendered himself,
the enemy, deaf to the voice of humanity, stabbed him wiUi
their bayonets, and with the butt end of a musket battered and
disfigured his face in a savage manner. It is to be remarked,
that on this memorable occasion, Lord Cornwallis was com
pletely out-generaled ; while he was expecting to find the con
tinental army at their hghted fires at Trenton, he was astonished
and confounded to hear the firing occasioned by this same
army, beating up their quarters twel\;e miles in his rear. His
lordship immediately repaired by a forced march to Prmceton,
but arrived too late to retaliate on his vigilant antagonist, who
had taken up his route to Morristown. Finding that the con
tinentals were out of his reach, his lordship proceeded, without
halting, to Brunswick. Stratagems in war, when wisely con
certed, and judiciously executed, are considered as character
izing a military genius of superior order, and is a quality of in
estimable value in every commander. It is often exultingly
remarked in our camp, that Washington was born for the sal
vation of his country, and that he is endowed with all the talents
and abilities necessary to qualify him for the great undertaking.
The militia of Jersey, immediately on their being Uberated
from the control of the British, flew to arms, exasperated and
stimulated by a recollection of their sufferings, and have be
come their most bitter and determined enemies ; and are very
active and vigilant in harassing them on all occasions, keeping
a continual watch, and cutting ofi" small parties whenever op
portunities offer. It is gratifying to the army, that Congress
have conferred on their Generalissimo more ample powers,

APPENDIX. ISl

and appointed him I>ic«a<or for the limiied term of six months ;
to reform and new model the miUtary arrangements, in such
manner as he may judge most advantageous for the public ser
vice. Much good is expected to result from this measure."—
Thach£r''s Journal.

No. IX.— Page 140.
CAPTURE OF PRESCOTT.
" In the month of July, 1777, Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, of
the Rhode- Island militia, planned a bold exploit for the purpose
of surprising and taking Major General Prescott, the com
manding officer of the royal army at Newport. Taking with
him, in the night, about forty men in two boats with oars muf
fled, he had the address to elude the vigilance of the ships of
war, and guard boats, and having arrived undiscovered at the
quarters of General Prescott, they were taken for the sentinels,
and the General was not alarmed till his captors were at the
door of his lodging chamber, which was fast closed. A negro
man, named Prince, instantly thrust his beetle head through
, the pannel door, and seized his victim while in bed. The
^ General's aid-de-camp leaped from a window undressed, and
4, attempted to escape, but was taken, and with the General
brought ofi" in safety. In re-passing the water-guards, General
Prescott said to Colonel Barton, " Sir, I did not think it pos
sible you could escape the vigilance of the water-guards." —
This is the second time that General Prescott has been a pri
soner in our hands within two years. This adventure is ex
tremely honourable to the enterprising spirit of Colonel Barton,
and is considered as ample retaliation for tbe capture of Gejieral
Lee by Colonel Harcourt. The event occasions great joy
and exultation, as it puts in our possession an officer of equal
rank with General Lee, by which means an exchange may be
obtained. Congress resolved that an elegant sword should be
presented to Colonel Barton for his brave exploit,. It has
been ascertained that General Howe has relaxed in his rigid

182 * APPENDIX.
treatment of General Lee, and conducted towards him in a
manner suitable to his rank. The Hessian officers, on whom
retahation had been inflicted, are also restored to their former
condition as prisoners of war." — Thacher's JournaJ.

No. X.— Page 140.
SIEGE OF FORT STANWIX.
" UN the third of August, 1777, Colonel St. Leger, and Sir
John Johnson, with a body of Britons, Canadians, tories, and
Indians, invested Fort Stanwix, now Fort Schuyler, one hun
dred and ten miles from Albany. General Herkimer, with
about eight hundred militia, was advancing to dbperse this
motley collection, and to reheve the .garrison ; but unfortu
nately he fell into an ambuscade, and sufi'ered a considerable
loss. Being himself wounded in both legs, he was seen sitting
on a stump, and courageously encouraging his men, by which
they maintained their ground, and did great execution among
the enemy. Several of the Indian chiefs were slain by the
'first fire, which so disheartened the remainder, that they were
thrown into the greatest confusion, and turning on the tories,
and other white people, a warm contention ensued between
them, and many of the whites were killed. Colonel Gansevort,
the commander of the fort, sent out Lieutenant Colonel Willet,
with two hundred and fifty men, who bravely routed the Indians
and tories, destroyed their provisions, and took their ketties,
blankets, muskets, tomahawks, deer skins, &-c. with five
colours, and returned to the fort. The brave General Herki
mer soon died of his wounds, and one hundred and sixty of his
militia men, having fought like lions, were killed, besides a
great number wounded. St. Leger's victory over our militia
was purchased, at a dear price, more than seventy of his In
dians were slain, and among them a large proportion of their
most distinguished and favourite warriors, and the survivors
were exceedingly dissatisfied. The object of the expedition

APPENDIX. 183
was far from being accomphshed ; the commander did not,
however, despair of getting possession of the fort ; for this'pur-
pose he sent in a flag, demanding a surrender. He greatly
magnified his own strength, asserted that Burgoyne was at
Albany ; and threatened that, on refusal, his Indians would
destroy all the inhabitants in the vicinity ; and so soon as they
could enter the fort, every man would be sacrificed. Colonel
Gansevort nobly replied in the negative, being determined to
defend the fort at every hazard ; aware, however, of his perilous
situation, he found means of sending to General Schuyler at
Stillwater for assistance. General Arnold was now despatched
with a brigade of troops to attack the besiegers ; but, finding
their force greatly superior to his own, he sent back for a re
inforcement of one thousand light troops.
An object which cannot be accomplished by force is often
obtained by means of stratagem. Lieutenant Colonel John
Brooks, an intelligent officer from Massachusetts, being in ad
vance with a small detachment, found one Major Butier, a
noted officer among the Indians, endeavouring to influence
the inhabitants in their favour, and he was immediately secured.
A man also by the name of Cuyler, who was proprietor of a
handsome estate in tbe vicinity, was taken up as a spy. Colo
nel Brooks proposed that he should be employed as a deceptive
messenger to spread the alarm, and induce the enemy to re
treat. General Arnold soon after arrived, and approved the
scheme of Colonel Brooks ; it was accordingly agreed that
Cuyler should be liberated, and his estate secured to him on
the condition, that he would return to the enemy, and make
such exaggerated report of General Arnold's force as to alarm
and put them to flight. Several friendly Indians being present,
one of their head men advised that Cuyler's coat should be
shot through in two or three places, to add credibility to his
story. Matters being thus adjusted, the impostor proceeded
directiy to the Indian camp, where he was well known, and
informed their warriors that Major Butier was taken, and that
himself narrowly escaped, several shot having passed through
his coat, and that General Arnold with a vast force was ad-

184 APPENDIX,
vancing rapidly towards them. In aid of the project, a fi:iendly
Indian followed and arrived about an hour after, with a con
firmation of Cuyler's report. This stratagem was successful ;
the Indians instantiy determined to quit their ground, and make
their escape, nor was it in the power of St. Leger and Sir John
with all their art of persuasion, to prevent it. When St. Leger
remonstrated with them, the reply of the chiefs was, " When
we marched down, you told us there would be no fighting for
us Indians, we might go down and smoke our pipes ; but now
a number of our warriors have been killed, and you mean to
sacrifice us." The consequence was, that St. Leger, finding
himself deserted by his Indians, to the number of seven or eight
hundred, deemed his situation so hazardous, that he decamped
in the greatest hurry and confusion, leaving his tents, with
most of his artillery and stores, in the field. General Arnold,
with his detachment, was now at ^liberty to return to the main
army at Stillwater ; and thus have we cUpped the right wing
of General Burgoyne. In the evening, while on their retreat,
St. Leger and Sir John got into a warm altercation, crimina
ting each other for tbe ill success of the expedition. Two
Sachems observing this, resolved to have a laugh at their ex
pense. In their front was a bog of clay and mud ; they di
rected a young warrior to loiter in the rear, and then, of a
sudden, run as if alarmed, calling out they are coming., they are
coming. On hearing this, the two commanders in a fright took
to their heels, rushing into the bog, frequently falling and
sticking in the mud, and the men threw away their packs, and
hurried oflF. This and otiier jokes, were several times repeated
during the night for many miles." — Thacher's Journal.

No. XL— Page 140.
BATTLE OF BENNINGTON.
On the 16th of August, 1777, the Americans, under Gene
ral Stark, defeated the British and Indians, under Lieutenant

APPENDIX. 1,S(>
Colonels Baum and Breyman, at Bennington, Vt. Stark di
vided his troops into three divisions, and ordered Colonel
Nichols, with two hundred and fifty men, to gain the rear of
the left wing of the enemy, who was secured by entrenchments.
At the same time, Colonel Hendrick made a similar movement
on the enemy's right wing, while Stark attacked them in front.
The Indians, alarmed at the appearance of being surrounded,
endeavoured to make their escape in a single file between the
two parties, with their horrid yells and the gingling of cow
bells. The flanking parties approached each other in their
rear, and General Stark making a bold and furious onset in
front, a general and close conflict ensued, and continued with
more or less severity for about two hours. Though Colonel
Baum had nearly twice their numbers, and was defended by
breastworks, the force opposed to them proved irresistible,
forcing their breastworks at the muzzles of their guns, and
obliging them to ground their arms and surrender at discretion,
so that the victory on our part was complete. We took two
pieces of brass cannon, and a number of prisoners, with bag
gage, &c. This was no sooner accomplished, than Colonel
Breyman, with one thousand German troops, arrived with two
field pieces, to reinforce Colonel Baum, who had just been
defeated. General Stark's troops were now scattered, some
attending the wounded, some guarding the prisoners, and still
more in pursuit of plunder ; and all exhausted by extreme
hunger and fatigue. At this critics^l moment. Colonel Warner's
regiment arrived, and the other troops being rallied, the whole
were ordered to advance. A field piece had been taken from
Baum in the forenoon, and Stark ordered it to be drawn to the
scene of action ; but his men, having never seen a cannon,
knew not how to load it, the General dismounted, and taught
them by loading it himself. An action soon commenced, and
proved warm and desperate, in which both sides displayed the
most daring bravery, till night approached, when the enemy
yielded a second time in one day, to their Yankee conquerors.
The German troops being totally routed, availed themselves of
the darkness of night to effect their retreat. The. whole num-
24

18U APPENDIX,
her of killed, wounded, and prisoners, was nine hundred and
thirty-four, including one hundred and fifty-seven tories j of
this number, six hundred and fifty-four are prisoners. Colonel
Baum received a mortal wound, of which he soon after died.
Besides the above, one thousand stand of arms, four brass field ,
pieces, two hundred and fifty dragoon swords, eight loads of
baggage, and twenty horses, fell into our hands. The loss on
our side, is not more than one hundred in the whole. The
officers and men engaged in this splendid enterprise merit all
the praise which a grateful country can bestow ; they fought
disciplined troops, completely accoutred, while they wielded
their ordinary firelocks with scarce a bayonet, and at first
without cannon. The consequences must be, most auspicious
as respects our affairs in the northern department. Burgoyne
must feel the clipping of another wing, and it must diminish
his confidence in his successful career. The event will also
be productive of the happiest efl'ects on the spirits of our mihtia,
by increasing their confidence in their own prowess. The
following anecdote deserves to be noticed for the honour of
the person who is the subject of it, though his name has not
been ascertained. A venerable old man had five sons in the
field of battle near Bennington ; and being told that he had
been -unfortunate in one of his sons, replied, ' What, has he
misbehaved, did he desert his post, or shrink from the charge ?'
' No, sir,' says the informant, ' worse than that : he is among
the slain ; he fell contending mightily in the cause.' ' Then
I am satisfied,' replied the good old man : ' bring him in, and
lay him before me, that I may behold and survey the darling of
my soul.' On which, the corpse was brought in, and laid be
fore him. He then called for a bowl of water and a napkin,
and with his own hands washed the gore and dirt from his
son's corpse, and wiped his gaping wounds, with a compla
cency, as he himself expressed it, which before he had never
felt or experienced." — Thacher's Journal.

ArPESTDIX, )87
No. Xn.— P.-VGE 140.
BATTLE OF STILLWATER, OR S.iRATOGA.
The American army, under the command of General Gates,
in the vicinity of Stillwater, in the county of Saratoga, state of
New- York, attacked the enemy, under General Burgoyne, on
the 19th of September, 1777. At about three o'clock, both
armies being formed in a fine of battie, the action became
general, and the combatants on both sides evinced that ardour
and gallantry which shows a determination to conquer or die.
The firing for about three hours was incessant, with continued
tremendous roar and blaze, filUng the field with carnage and
death. Few battles have been more obstinate and unyielding
— at one point the British are overpowered ; but, being rein
forced, the Americans are baffled ; these, being supported,
and renewing their efi'orts, regain their advantages ; the same
ground is occupied alternately, the dead and wounded of both
parties are mingled together. The British resort repeatedly
to their bayonets without effect — the Americans resist and
foil their attempts. Captain Jones, of the British artillery,
had the command of four pieces of cannon, which he con
ducted with great skill and valour till he fell, and thirty-six out
of forty-eight of his artillery-men were killed or wounded ; his
cannon were repeatedly taken and re-taken, but finally re
mained with the enemy for the want of horses to bring them
off, DAiring the engagement, a number of our soldiers placed
themselves in the boughs of high trees, in the rear and flanks,
and took every opportunity of destroying the British officers
by single shot : in one instance. General Burgoyne was the
object, but the aid-de-camp of General Philhps received the
ball through his arm, while delivering a message t6 Burgoyne ;
the mistake, it is said, was occasioned by having his saddle
furnished with rich lace, and was supposed, by the marksman
to be the British commander. In the dusk of evening the

188 APPENDIX.
tattle terminated, the British in one quarter silently retreating,
the Americans in another give way, and quit the long-con
tested field. Lieutenant Colonel Brooks, with the eighth
Massachusetts regiment, remained in the field till about eleven
o'clock, and was the last who retired. Major Hull commanded
a detachment of three hundred men, who fought with such
signal ardour, that more than half of them were killed or
wounded. The whole number of Americans engaged in this
action, was about two thousand five hundred ; the remainder
of the army, from its unfavourable situation, took little or no
part in the action. The British have sufi'ered a loss, as is sup
posed, of more than five hundred in killed, wounded, and pri
soners. On the side of the Americans, sixty-four were killed,
two hundred and seventeen wounded, and thirty-ejght missing.
Among the killed, are Colonels Adams and Colburn, two
valuable officers much regretted. The victory on this impor
tant occasion is claimed by tbe enemy, but the advantages are
most decidedly on the side of the Americans : they were the
assailants — they held their ground during the day— and, at the
close, retired to their encampment without being pursued. —
The royal army lay all the ensuing night on their arms at some
distance from the field of battle." — Thacher's Journal.

No. XIIL— Page 140.
RED BANK AFFAIR.
" The Americans had erected several forts and redoubts on
the banks of the Delaware river, and on Mud Island, to guard
against the passage of the British fleet up this river to Phila
delphia. In one of these forts at Red Bank, Colonel Greene,
of Rhode Island, was posted, with about four hundred men.
General Howe, perceiving the great importance of reducing
these works, detached Count Donop, an officer held in high
estimation in the royal army, with twelve or fifteen himdred
Hessian troops, well supplied with artillery, to take possession

APPENDIX. 189
of it. Having arrived near the redoubts, he summoned the
commander to surrender, to which he resolutely replied, he
would defend the place to the last extremity. This fort being
originally constructed on a large scale, it was found necessary
to run a line across the middle, and divide it into two, so that
the external part was left without defence. The Hessian
commander ordered his troops to advance under cover of the
smoke of his cannon, and storm the redoubt ; they soon gained
the unoccupied part with loud huzzas on their supposed vic
tory ; but on approaching the new lines within, where our
troops were stationed, the brave garrison poured on them such
hot and well-directed fire for about forty minutes, that they
were completely overpowered, and fled in every direction. —
Colonel Donop, their commander, was mortally wounded and
taken, and more than one hundred were killed on the spot,
and a greater number wounded and prisoners. The enemy
retreated with great precipitation, leaving many of their
wounded on the road, and returned to Philadelphia with the
loss of one half their party. Colonel Greene, and his brave
troops, acquired great honour for their gallant defence of the
fort, which is a key to other posts on the river. Congress
have rewarded the Colonel, with an elegant sword. The
British army found it difficult to procure the necessary supplies
in Philadelphia, and the continental galleys and strong chevaux
de frize in the Delaware, rendered a passage of their ships up
to the city almost impossible. Admiral Lord Howe determined
to attempt the removal of these formidable obstructions, and
he ordered six of his ships to engage in this service. They
were so unmercifully handled by our galleys, and from Fort
Mifflin, at Mud Island, that two of them, one of sixty-four
guns, run aground, and were set on fire by the crews who de
serted them, and soon after they blew up." — Thacher's Jour
nal.

190 APPENDIX.
No. XIV.— Page 140.
SURRENDER OF BUEGOVNE,
" Aftek the battie of Stillwater, the situation of General Bur«
goyne became very precarious. His Indian auxiliaries deserted
daily ; and his army, reduced to Uttie more than five thousand
men, was limited to half their usual allowance of provisions.—
His stock of forage was entirely exhausted, and his horses
were perishing in great numbers. The American army had
become so augmented, as to render him diffident of making
good bis retreat. To aggravate his distress, no intelligence
had yet been received of the approach of General Clinton, or
of any diversion in his favour from New- York.
In this exigency, General Burgoyne resolved to examine
the possibility of dislodging tbe Americans from their posts on
the left, by which means he would be enabled to retreat to
the lakes. For this purpose he drew out fifteen hundred men,
which he headed himself, attended by Generals Phillips, Reid-
esel, and Frazer. This detachment had scarcely formed, within
less than half a mile of the American intrenchments, when a
furious attack was made on its left ; but Major Ackland.^ at
the head of the British grenadiers, sustained it with great firm
ness. The Americans soon extended their attack along the
whole front of the German troops, which were posted on the
right of the grenadiers ; and marched a body around their
flank, to prevent their retreat. On this movement, the British
light infantry, with a part of the twenty-fourth regiment, in
stantiy formed, to cover the retreat of the troops into the camp.
Their left wing, in the mean time, overpowered with numbers,
was obliged to retreat, and would inevitably have been cut to
pieces, but for the intervention of the same troops, which had
just been covering the retreat on tbe right. The whole de
tachment was now under the necessity of retiring ; but scarcely
had the British troops entered the lines, when the Americans,

APPENDIX, 191
ted by General Arnold, pressed forward, and, under a tremen
dous fire of grape shot and musketry, assaulted the works
throughout their whole extent from right to left. Toward the
close of the day, a part of the left of the Americans forced the
intrenchments, and Arnold with a few men actually entered
the works ; but his horse being killed, and he himself badly
wounded in the leg, they were forced out of them, and it being
now nearly dark, they desisted from the attack. On the Iqft
of Arnold's detachment, Jackson's regiment of Massachusetts,
then led by Lieutenant Colonel Brooks, was still more suc
cessful. It turned the right of the encampment, and carried
by storm the works, occupied by the German reserve. Lieu
tenant Colonel Breyman was killed ; and Brooks maintained
the ground he had gained. Darkness put an end to the action.
The advantage of the Americans was decisive. They killed a
great number of the enemy ; made upward of two hundred pri
soners, among whom were several officers of distinction ; took
nine pieces of brass artillery, and the encampment of a German
brigade, with all their equipage. Among the slain of the
enemy was General Frazer, an officer of distinguished merit,
whose loss was particularly. regretted. The loss of the Ame
ricans was inconsiderable.
Gates posted fourteen hundred men on the heights opposite
the ford of Saratoga ; two thousand in the rear, to prevent a
retreat to Fort Edward ; and fifteen hundred at a ford higher
up. Burgoyne, apprehensive of being hemmed in, retired im
mediately to Saratoga-
An attempt was now made to retreat to Fort George. —
Artificers were accordingly despatched, under a strong escort,
to repair the bridges, and open the road to Fort Edward ; but
they were compelled to make a precipitate retreat. The situ
ation of General Burgoyne becoming every hour more hazard
ous, he resolved to attempt a retreat by night to Fort Edward ;
but even this retrograde movement was rendered impracticable.
While the army was preparing to march, intelligence was re
ceived, that the Americans had already possessed themseh'es
of Fort Edward, and that they were well provided with artillery.

193

APPENDIX.

No avenue to escape now appeared. Incessant toil had worrt
doWn the whole British army ; which did not now contain
more than three thousand five hundred fighting men. Provi
sions were almost exhausted, and there were no possible means
of procuring a supply. The American army, which was daily
increasing, was already much greater than the British in point
of numbers, and almost encircled them. In this extremity, the
British General called a council of war ; and it was unani
mously resolved to enter into a convention with General Gates.
Prehminaries were soon settled, and the royal army surren
dered prisoners of war.
The capture of an entire army was justiy viewed as an event
that must essentially affect the contest between Great Britain
and America ; and while it excited the highest joy among the
people, it could not but have a most auspicious influence in
the cabinet and in the field. The thanks of Congress were
voted to General Gates and his army ; and a medal of gold,
in commemoration of this splendid achievement, was ordered
to be struck, to be presented to him by the president, in the
name of the United States." — Holmes' American Annals,

No. XV.— Page 140.
BRANDYWINE AND GERMANTOWN.
*' General Washington having ascertained that it was the
great object of Sir William Howe to possess himself of the
city of Philadelphia, put in requisition every efi"ort in his pOwer
to counteract his measures for this purpose. His force during
the whole campaign was considerably inferior to that of the
enemy. Battles and skirmishing of more or less importance
Were frequent, but not decisive, though attended by no incon
siderable loss of human lives. On the 11th of September, the
two armies approached each other in the order of battle, and
'& general action took place at Brandywine, in which the offi-
cers and soldiers of both armies displayed a spirit of intrepidity

APPENDIX. i93
and heroism, scarcely ever exceeded. The British claim the
victory ; but it was only a partial one, and besides a prodigious
sacrifice of lives, they failed in their main object, that of forc
ing their way to Philadelphia. It is stated that, from particu
lar circumstances, little more than one half of Generar Wash
ington's force was opposed to nearly the whole strength of the
enemy. Our loss is mentioned in round numbers at one thou
sand. The Marquis de la Fayette, and General Woodford
were sHghtly wounded. The loss of the royalists, according
to accounts published, greatiy exceeds that of the Americans.''
— Thacher's Journal.

No. XVI.— Page 141.
BURNING OF DANBURY, CONN.
" On the 26th of April, 1777, the notorious Tryon, at the
bead of two thousand tories and refbgees, marched to Danbury,
in the state of Connecticut, where they burnt eighteen houses
with then: contents, and a very valuable quantity of stores,
provisions, and 1790 tents. This wanton devastation alarmed
the country, and the miUtia Collected under Major General
Wooster, assisted by Arnold and Silliman. A smart action
soon ensued, and continued about one hour, in which our
mifitia and a small number of continentals conducted with dis
tinguished bravery, but being overpowered by a superior force,
they were obliged to retreat. The amount of stores destroyed
by the enemy was very considerable,. but the loss of valuable
officers and men is infinitely more important. General Woos-
, ter was mortally wounded, and died soon after. Lieutenant
Colonel Gould and four or five other officers were killed, and
about sixty men were killed or wounded. Among the slain is
Dr. Atwater, a re.spectable character, whose death is greatly
lamented. General Arnold had his horse shot under him when
within ten yards of the enemy, and a soldier was advancing
-vith fixed bayonet towards him, when, with great presenc)^«F
25

194 APPENDIX,
mind, he drew his pistol from his holsters, and instantly shot
him through the body. On the side of the royalists, the bss,
as stated by General Howe, is one hundred and seventy-two
in killed, wounded, and missing, but by other accounts it is
much more considerable. Among their wounded is Brigadier
General Agnew, and two other field officers." — Thacher's
Journal.

No. XVII.— Page 141,
FORTS MONTGOMERY AND CLINTON.
" On the 6th of October, 1777,-the British, under Sir Henry
Clinton and General Vaughan, succeeded in an assault on
Forts Montgomery and CUnton,. on the Western bank of the
Hudson, a few miles below West Point, These fortresses
were defended by Governor George Clinton, and his brother.
General James Clinton, of New- York, having about six hun
dred militia men, a force greatly inadequate to the defence of
the works. The enemy came up the river, landed, and ap
peared unexpectedly, and demanded a surrender of the forts,
whieh being resolutely refused, were taken by assault, though
not without a firm and brave resistance. General James Clin
ton received aHaayonet wound in his thigh, but he and the
Governor, with a part o^the garrison, made their escape, leaving
s^bout two hundred and fifty men killed, wounded, and prisoners-.
The enemy suffered a severe loss of three field officers killed,
and their dead and wounded is estimated at about three hun
dred. General Putnam, who commanded at Peekskill in the
vicinity, having a small force only to guard the deposit of
stores, was obliged to retire, and the barracks, stores, and pro
visions, to a very considerable amount, fell into the hands of
the enemy, and were destroyed. With wanton cruelty they
set fire to the bouses and buildings of every^ description, and
spread ruin and devastation to the extent of their nower. To
consummate their destructive schemo. General Vaughan d^-

APPENDIX. 195
stroyed by conflagration, the beautiful town of Esopus, with
the chufch, and every other building it contained. Thus wc
experience the horrid effects of malice and revenge ; where
they cannot conquer, they wantonly exterminate and destroy.
They are well apprised of the disastrous and desperate situation
of their boastful General Burgoyne, and if they dare not march
to his relief, they can cowardly retaliate by conflagration with
impunity. It is the prevalent opinion here, that by taking ad-
vaptage of wind and tide, it is in the power of Sir Henry Clin
ton to convey his forces to this city within the space of five or
six hours, and having arrived here, a march of about twenty
miles will carry him without opposition to Stillwate;-, which
must involve General Gates in inexpressible embarrassment
and difficulty, by placing him between two armies, and thereby
extricating Burgoyne from his perilous situation. We have
been tremblingly alive to this menacing prospect, but our fears
are in a measure allayed by the following singular incident. —
After the capture of Fort Montgomery, Sir Henry Clinton des
patched' a messenger by the name of Daniel Taylor, to Bur
goyne with the intelligence ; fortunately he was taken on his
way as a spy, and, finding himself in danger, he was seen to
turn aside and take something from his pocket and swallow it.
General George Clinton, into whose hands he had fallen, or
dered a severe dose of emetic tartar to be administered ; this
produced the happiest effect as respects the prescriber ; but it
proved fatal to the patient. He discharged- a smaU silver bul
let, which being unscrewed, was' found to enclose a letter from
Sir Henry CUnton to Burgoyne. ' Out of thine own mouth
thou shalt be condemned,' The spy was tried, convicted, and
executed. The following is an exact copy of the letter en
closed. Fort Montgomery, October 8th, 1777.
Nous voici — and nothing between us but Gates. I sincerely
hope this Utile success of ours may facilitate your operations.
In answer to your letter of the 28tb of September, by G. C, T

iSfii ' 4»PEND^^X,
shall only say, I cannot presume to order, or even advise, for
reasons obvious, I hesmily wish you success.
Faithfully yours,
I H. CLINTON.
To General Burgoyne.'^— [Thacher's Journal.^

No. XVllL— Page 166.
CAPTURE OF MAJOR ANDRE.
The treason of Arnold, and the consequent capture and
execution of Major Andre, are events that have been widely
curculated in all parts of the world ; but the followmg extracts
from the " Life and Correspondence of General Greene," con
tain several additional facts, which cannot fail of being read
with interest,
" It was when Washington was on his march to Kingsbridge,
with a view to the attempt on New- York, and when he had
mustered every man who could carry a musket, that he placed
Arnold in command of a corps of invalids at West Point. The
commander-in-chief had offered him a command suitable to
his rank and reputation in the army ; but he made the un
healed state of his wounds, and some other causes, the pretext
for declining it ; for his negociations for the surrender of West
Point had already commenced, or been consummated ; and
be made interest to obtain that appointment.
Greene was in command of the American army, at the time
Arnold's treachery was detected. Soon after the relinquish
ment of the enterprise against New- York, a meeting was con
certed, to take place between the American commander-in-
chief, and. the French military and naval commanders. Hart
ford, on the Connecticut river, was the place assigned for their
meeting, and its object was to consult on their future joint
operations. Upon the departure of Washington, Greene was placed in

APPENDIX. 191
command of the main army. This was on the 17th of .Sep
tember. On the 18th, Admiral Rodney arrived with such aq
overwhelming reinforcement to the British navy, as must have
set the consultations at Hartford all at nought. From that
time, Greene's communications to the president of congress
are full of the hurried preparations going on at New-York for
some important enterprise. Little did he or any other suspect
to what point that enterprise was directed. It appears that he
had established a regular communication for obtaining intelli
gence from the city by spies ; and his correspondents in that
place were at a loss whether the expedition was intended
against Rhode Island or Virginia. To one or tbe other of
those places the enemy had been careful to throw out hints, or
exhibit appearances that the expedition was directed. Yet
Greene was not deceived ; for in a letter of the 21st to Gene
ral Washington, he writes, ' Colonel ¦ conununicated
the last intelligence we have from New- York ; since that I
have not been able to obtain the least information of what is
going on there, though we have people in from three difi'erent
quarters. None of them returning, makes me suspect some
secret expedition is in contemplation, the success of which de
pends altogether on its being kept a secret.'
This letter is dated at Tappan, for to that place he had been
directed by General Washington, on his departure for Hartford,
to remove a division of the army. V
On the 23d, the whole mystery was developed by the cap-
tare of Major Andre. He had ascended the river in the Vul
ture sloop-of-war, to hold a personal conference with General
Arnold. The British commander had become sensible that
no time was to be lost ; as most probably, on the return of
Washington from Hartford, he would assume the command in
person at West Point, or confide it to Greene. The present,
therefore, was the most &vourable time that would ever pre
sent itself; the recent movement of the army nearer that place
excited to despatch ; and the arrival of Rodney gave the «nemy
Hie command of such abundant means of water transportation,
without exposing the city to a coup de main horn the French

198 APPENDIX.
and American forces, that the British commander would have
been culpably negligent, not to have embraced it., Andre was
accordingly despatched to make the final arrangements for
consummating the treachery of Arnold.
The well known object of Arnold's negociation was to put
Clinton in possession of the post at West Point. This is a
beautiful littie plain, lying on the west bank of the Hudson, a
little below where it breaks through the chain of mountains
called -the Highlands. Its form is nearly circular ; in one half
of its circumference defended by>a precipice of great height,
rising abruptly from the river ; and on the other, by a chain
of rugged, impassable mountains. It is accessible by one pass
only from the river, and that is narrow and easily defended ;
while, on the land side, it can be approached only at two points,
by roads that wind through the mountains, and enter it at the
river bank, on the north and south.
Great importance had always been attached to this post by
the Americans, and great labour and expense bestowed upon
fortifying it : whether judiciously or to good effect, has never
been tested. But the place is naturally, scarcely assailable,
very healthy, and commands the river, throughout a long cir
cuit that it stretches round the point, and where it is deep and
very narrow. ,
The North river had long been the great vein that supplied
life to the American army ; and had the enemy obtained pos
session of this post, besides the actual loss in men and stores,
the Arherican army would have been cut ofi" from their princi
pal resources in the ensuing winter, or been obUged to fall
back above the Highlands, and leave all the country below
open to conquest ; while the communication between the east
ern and western states would have been seriously interrupted,
if not wholly excluded,
Arnold well knew the bearing of this post upon all the ope
rations of the American army, and afterwards avowed his con-.
fident expectation, that had the enemy got possession of it, the
contest must have ceased, and America been subdued. Clin•^
ton, it appears, also well understood the value of this place ;

APPENDIX. 199
and it is probable, tiiat the purchase of it had been arranged
with Arnold some months prior to the detection of the plot. —
It was well remembered, aftprjvards, that he had intrigue'd for
some time to get appomted to the command, not only in per
son, but through the agency of his friends in congress and the
army ; and the activity which he displayed in making his es
cape, and afterwards,- as a commander under CUnton, support
the belief that the pain and weakness fi-om his wounded legs,
on which he founded his claims to a command suited to an
invalid, were in a great degree aflfected. Indeed, in one of his
pubhcations he acknowledges, that he had long retained his
commission only to find some opportunity to inflict such a blow.
The developement of Arnold's plot was communicated to
Greene by a letter from Colonel Hamilton, dated Verplank's
Point. It was received the evening of the 25th. The object
of the preparations in New- York immediately became palpable^
and, without delay, he made every disposition for marching to
the defence of West Point ; so that when General Washing
ton's order reached him, at a quarter past three, on the morn
ing of the 26th, the whole army had already been put under
marching orders. The first Pennsylvania brigade under Wayne '
had been first put in motion ; so that it actually fell to the lot
of Andre to find the ' warrior- drover Wayne' in command,
when he was delivered a prisoner at the village of Tappan.—
But Wayne did not sit in the board of officers who tried him ;
perhaps from considerations of delicacy ; there may have re
mained something of personal irritation ; the wounds of the
pen last longer than those of the sword.
It is very well known that Major Andre was taken near a
place called Tarry Town, on the east side of the HudsoDj
where it forms Haverstraw Bay. Ten years afterwards, the
large sycamore near which he was taken, was shown to the
traveller ; and the incidents at his capture were familiariy
known to, and related by, every inhabitant in the village. —
Paulding, WilUams, and Van Wart, who captured him, were
poor, but reputable men, and exhibited a striking instance of
disinterestedness and fidelity. Andre offered them large bribes;

^00 APPENDti.
but they were not to be corrupted, and conducted him a J>ri-
soner to Colonel Jamieson, who commanded a scouting party
on that side of the river.
The circumstances attending the capture of Andre are difier-
ently related by the diff"erent authors who have written on the
American war. They are all correct as far as they go ; but
being deficient in a few particulars, excited surprise at the
supposed want of self-possession in so brave a man as Andre.
The British army in New- York was, at that time, supplied with
beef, principally through the aid of a class of men, who obtained
the appellation of Cowboys. They were a species of suttlers,
or dealers in live stock, who being weU acquainted with the
roads and passes, penetrated into the country, and either stole
Or purchased Cattle, which they secretly drove into the enemy's
lines. Besides watching the movements of the enemy, one
principal object for detaching Jamieson to that quarter was, to
check the prosecution of this trade or practice. For this pur
pose, small scouting parties were occasionally pushed beyond
the American posts, to reconnoitre the interjacent coimtry be
tween their post^and those of the enemy. And as the cattie
taken from the Cowboys, unless stolen, were held to be prize
of war ; and it was an object fvith the well-aflfected to suppress
a practice which exposed their stock to depredations, smaU
Volunteer parties occasionally waylaid the roads for that pur
pose. Of this description were the captors of Andre ; who,
after the fatigue of prosecuting their enterprise, had seated
themselves under this tree, in a situation retired from the view
of travellers approaching along the road. It is said that they
were engaged in a game at cards, when the tread of Andre's
horse aittraCted their notice.
The station they had taken was in view of a point where
several roads unite near the village, and Andre, who was visa-
ble to the party before they were visible to him, was engaged
in examining a sketch of the route, no doubt to determine
which of the roads in his view he ought to follow. At the
first rustiing of the leaves made by the motion of the party in
ambush, he precipitately thrust the paper he was examining

APPENDIX, ¦ 201
ii\to his boot, on the opposite side of his horse from that on
which the party appeared. This was noticed by one of the
party, and led to the examination which produced the detection.
On being stopped, he resumed his composure, and exhibited
the pass from Arnold, on which he had thus far succeeded in
clearing the American posts and patrols ; and the party had
already released his bridle, when one of them inquired what he
had done w^ith the paper he was reading ? An -indistinct view
of the dangerous dilemma in which the question involved him,
produced in Andre a momentary hesitation ; his embarrass
ment was noticed by the party, and made them resolve again
to detain him. Knowing that the pass from Arnold would not
avail him after the discovery of the contents of his boot, Andre
then desired them to teU him truly, whether they were ' from
above or below ?' and on their answering ' the latter,' which
was consistent with the truth in fact, though not in the sense
he meant it, which was, whether they were whigs or tories ;
he acknowledged himself to be a British oflicer on urgent bu
siness, and begged them not to detain him. On their persist
ing to detain him, the whole extent of his danger burst upon
him, and he liberaUy tried the persuasive voice of gold. But
though he had just witnessed, that one in a much more elevated
rank had lent a propitious ear to similar arguments, he found
these honest yeomen were not to be corrupted. Until then,
he had learned, that it is at last in the integrity of the well-in
formed yeomanry of a country that the strength and security
of every free government is to be found. Wo to that govern
ment which ever suff"ers this class of men to remain in igno
rance, or be exposed to corruption !
Upon searching the boot into which the paper had been
thrust, a plan of West Point, the strength and disposition of
the garrison, and other suspicious papers were discovered i
and Andre was immediately conveyed to the head quarters of
Colonel Jamieson. By this time, it appears, that Andre had
completely recovered his self-possession, if, indeed, he had
ever lost it ; and he had the ingenuity to play off on Jamieson
a ruse de guerre, t<> which the partiality of his friends, and tiie

21^ Apppwpix,
feelings of his admirers, havje mapaged to give 9, charaft^r
which it by no means merits.
He prevailed on Jamieson to despatch a note tP Arnolds in-
fqripipg him that John Apderspp (this was Andre's afisumed
name) was taken. This has been construed into ji magnanif
mous eflTort to save Arnold ; ijrhereas it yas obviously ap inge
nious a;tificp tp save him?plf. Apd it must haW puppeeded,
had not the former, instead of faking the hint a? it si/ 9^ inteoded,
verified by his popduct tfie trite adage, ' there is pg faith among
the dishonest,' by immediately transferring all his .attentipp to
hi§ own escape. Arpold could easily h^-ye despatched ?fi prdpr
io Jamieson to release Andre, pr h^ye adopted sqpae fictiqppr
plan for getting hipi into his pwp h^pds, for the purpqsp of
givibg him bis liberty, and thus have escaped with Ijiipi. Ja
mieson obviously entertained no suspicion of AiPPld, by send
ing him this message : and by the time that elapspd before be
forwarded to General Waghipgtpp the papers found ppon
Andre, it is clear that hP waited fpr some compiupication from
Arnold with regard to the fpture fate of Jphp Anderson.
It is curious to contemplate the good fortune of this inter
esting young man, in the favourable views whieh writers qf
both nations, indeed all who have ever npticsid him, havp t^kpn
of his conduct. But such is the pfTpct of expited fpeUpg ppon
the judgment of mankind, or perhaps, such the proclivity qf
man to follow a popular leader, and tp g.void the perpWsity qf
reflection. The breathing pen of Colonel Hamilton was
generously employed in describing the magnanimity with which
Andre met death ; the direction once given to public opinion
has been followed, ' nothing lotli,' and every subsequent writer
has vied with his predecessor in representing Andre's copduct
In the nfost favourable colours. The stern moralist, who,
knowing that first to pity, then to palUate, then to imitate, is
too often the course through which vice and error steal on so
ciety, presumes, in such a case as this, to exoliim, ' Pause and
reflect ;' will be mqre apt to incur the frowns, than the plaudits
of his cotemporaries. But there.is a time of life when a writer
may no longer feel tbe undue influence of popular applause.

APPENDIX. 20^
Andre has also been greatly extolled for his magnanimity in
coianranicatifig to General Washington his real name and cha
racter, by the espres^ Which ddhveyed to the doittmander-in-
chief the papers fbund uppii him. But what else remsined' for
hfto to do ? Hisr life was cleatly forfeited ; and in the charac
ter of John Anderson, he must hste sufiered, ' unpitied and
unwept,' tlM; sumrtiary arid ignominious death ofa spy, or been.
detected as- Major' Andre, with a falsehood on his lips. His
only chance of escape was to declare his real character, and
place himself under the protection of the circumstances under
which he ailfeges that fie came within the American posts ; or
perhaps, to interest the feelings or the fearS of the American
comliisirider in his behalf. lEs letter coiitains one passage
which serves as a plain developement of his motives ui writing
it.— i! was to save hi^ own life by exciting fear for that of
others. The pa^sagfe alluded to is the following : "' I take the
libeirfyto mention the condition Of some gentiemen at Charles
ton, who, being either on parole or ilfeder protection, were en
gaged in. a carispiracy against us .- though their situation is not
similar^ they are objects who may be sent in exchange for me,
or persons whom the treatment I receive might affect.'
ft is truly astonishing, that the ungenefrous character of this
paragl-aph has never been properly animadverted upon. Who
these ' gentlemen at Charleston' were, is afterwards more ex-
pHcitty declared, in AriiPld's Iietter to General Washington, of
the f st October : ' I have farther to o'b'serve, tfi'stt forty of the
principal inhabitants of South Carohna have justly forfeited
their lives, wffich have hitherto been spared by the clemency
of his esceliency Sir Henry CMnton, who cannot in justice ex
tend his mercy to them any longer, if Major Andre suffers,
whieh^ ill all probability, will open a scene of blood at which
humanity will revolt.'
"ifl&Us iff appears that Andre's hint was greedily caught at by
Arnold ; and Sir Henry CUnton himself, in his communica-
tidns, very pldlfly hints at the same thing.
• Yet nothing could have been more base and dishonourable
tban' the' attempt to saVe his forfeited life, by drawing down'

2M APPENDIX.
ruin upon a number of innocent men, who, after bravely resist
ing the enemy, had surrendered on terms that had been most
dishonourably evaded- The assertion also contained in Andre's
letter, that the prisoners alluded to had engaged in a conspiracy,
was absolutely destitute of truth ; as it was well known^ that
every individual of those prisoners had, from the first, courted
and defied investigation ; and there existed no cause for their
confinement at St. AugOstine, to which place they had been
removed, but the prevalence of an opinion that their influence
kept others from accepting of the King's protection, the illibe
ral suggestions of some of tile loyaUsts who could not bear the
reproachfiil looks of those whom they had deserted,, and above
all, the convenience of setainjng such respectable hostages to
cover such men as Arnold and Andre.
The introductory paragraph also to Andre's letter, cannot
be dismissed without a'Veniarfc. It is it these words.
' What I have as yet said conceJning myself, was in the jus
tifiable attempt to be/exlnicated. I am too little accustomed
to dupUcity to have 'succeeded.' ' [That is to say, I have hith
erto been doing what no man who sufficiently values the obli-^
gation of truth would do, or at least, expose himself to the dan
ger of being obUged to do, even for ' the justifiable attempt to
be extricated,'] I have hitherto dealt oufiiothing but falsehoods ;
but for want of practice,"my firmness fails me.'
In the first plaafe^ this paragraph is uncandid ; for if his dis
guise could sm0''^g^r^a,ve availed him, he would have re
tained it ; in the, next ^^ce, there is no, small cause to believe
that this was not th^ first time in which Major Andre iad
played off the practical falsehood of assuming a disguise, and
acting the spy.
It is. believed by many, that in the character of a spy, he
had been greatly instrumental in involving in captivity, the very
men whom he now wished to involve in the horrors of retalia
tion.. , .
Let political expediency disguise it as it may, stiU, the cha
racter of at soldier cannot be blended with that of a spy, with
out soiUng the pure ermine of the former. And, however his

APPENDIX. 205
sovereign may applaud and reward the officer who tempts hia
enemy to treachery, there is something so foul in the constitu
tion of the crime, that we cannot look upon him who seduces
another to the commission of it, but as the instigator or propa
gator of crime. The breath of treachery gives a taint to the
reputation of the man who but holds converse with it.
Indeed, there appears to have been a combined attack upon
morals made by all the particepes criminis in this black trans
action. One can hardly read with patience the letters of Clin
ton, Robertson, and Arnold, boldly insisting that Andre was
not punishable as a spy, because he came within the garrison
under the sanction of a flag, or under the protection of the
commander ; although in fact, with that commander he was
concerting measures to get possession of the post where that
officer commanded ; that he was himself innocent, because he
had prostituted the usual protection of innocent and honoura
ble purposes to the perpetration of the basest treachery. And
to complete the ridicule of the scene, the chief justice of the
state is brought upon the carpet to support this holy doctrine.
This was at a conference which was held by appointment at
King's Ferry, between General Robertson and General Greene,
on tiie subject of Andre's treatment, Robertson brought with
him from New- York, Chief Justice Smith and the Lieutenant
Governor to support him in the argument ; but whether it was
that the man of the sword was afraid to encounter the, man of
the gown in argument, Greene would not suffer Smith to land,
and the conference resulted in nothing but mutual confirmation
in pre-existing opinions. On the 2d of October, Andre was
executed as a spy on a gibbet, at the viUage of Tappan, where
the principal part of the army was then encamped.
As his case was one of many novel features, and threats of
retahation had loudly resounded,''General Washington did not
order his execution summarily, as by the laws of war he would
have been justified to do, but commanded a board of general
officers to be convened, and submitted the case to their con-
'^' gTcct" was appointed to preside, and Colonel John Lauren?

£@6 APPENDIX,
was present in the capacity of judge advocate general, -which
station he held in the army. La Fayette and Steuben were
members of the court ; and, if dignity, worth, and service can
give weight to the decision of a court, never was one consti
tuted more worthy to be respected. There were in it sir Ma
jor Generals and eight Brigadiers, They were unanimOudy
of opinion, that Andre must suffer as a spy,"

TffiB END.

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