SIGNATURES OF ARNOLD’S AIDS.

Arnold’s oarsmen, unconscious of the nature of the general’s errand, had their muscles strengthened by a promise of two gallons of rum, and the barge glided with unusual speed. He told them he was going on board the Vulture with a flag, and was obliged to make all possible haste, as he wished to return in time to meet General Washington at his quarters. When he passed Verplanck’s Point, he displayed a white handkerchief, which, as a signal of amity, answered for both Colonel Livingston at the Point, and Captain Sutherland of the Vulture, which lay in sight a few miles below. They reached the Vulture without interruption, and, after having introduced himself to Captain Sutherland, Arnold sent for the coxswain, and informed him that he and his oarsmen were prisoners. They indignantly asserted their freedom to depart, alleging truly, as they supposed, that they had come on board under the protection of a flag. Arnold coolly replied that they must remain on board. Captain Sutherland would not interfere with Arnold’s commands, but, despising his meanness, he gave the coxswain a parole to go on shore and get such things as he wanted. This was done, and, when the Vulture arrived in New York, Sir Henry Clinton set them all at liberty. In this transaction, the inherent meanness of Arnold’s spirit was conspicuous, and made the British officers regard him with scorn as a reptile unworthy of that esteem which a high-souled traitor – a traitor because of great personal wrongs – might claim.

Washington arrived at Robinson’s house shortly after Arnold had left. Informed that he had gone to West Point, the commander-in-chief took a hasty breakfast, and concluded not to wait, but go directly over and meet Arnold there. Hamilton remained behind, and it was arranged that the general and his suite should return to dinner. While crossing the river in a barge, Washington expressed his expectation that they would be greeted with a salute, as General Arnold was at the Point; but, to his surprise, all was silent when they approached the landing-place. Colonel Lamb, the commanding officer, who came strolling down a winding path, was much confused when he saw the barge touch the shore. He apologized to Washington for the apparent neglect of courtesy, alleging his entire ignorance of his intended visit. The general was surprised, and said, "Sir, is not General Arnold here?" "No, sir," replied Colonel Lamb, "he has not been here these two days, nor have I heard from him within that time." This awakened the suspicions of Washington. He proceeded, however, to inspect the several works at West Point, and at about noon returned to the Beverly Dock, from whence he had departed.

As soon as the contents of the papers were made known, Washington dispatched Hamilton on horseback to Verplanck’s Point, that preparations might be made there to stop the traitor. But Arnold had got nearly six hours’ the start of him, the tide was ebbing, and the six strong oarsmen, prompted by expected reward, had pulled with vigor. When Hamilton arrived at the Point, a flag of truce was approaching from the Vulture to that post. The bearer brought a letter from Arnold to Washington, which Hamilton forwarded to the commander-in-chief, and then wrote to General Greene at Tappan, advising him to take precautionary measures to prevent any movement of the enemy in carrying out the traitor’s projects. The failure of the plot was not known to Sir Henry Clinton until the arrival of the Vulture at New York the next morning, and then he had no disposition to venture an attack upon the Americans in the Highlands, now thoroughly awake to the danger that had threatened.

Within a short distance of Fort Montgomery, we turned up a rough mountain road to visit an old lady named Rebecca Rose, eighty years of age, who lived close by Fort Montgomery at the time it was taken by the enemy. I found her upon a bed of sickness, too feeble then to converse, but at a subsequent visit she was well and communicative. She was a child only seven or eight years old, and has no distinct recollection of events at the taking of the forts, except her care and anxiety in concealing her rag babies in a sap trough, while her parents were hiding their property in the woods. Her father was a tanner and shoemaker, in the employ of the garrison at the two forts. The British tried to frighten him into the performance of the duty of a guide for them, by twice hauling him up to an apple-tree with a halter around his neck. He resolutely defied them, and they passed on. From the cottage of Mrs. Rose, among the hills, is one of the most magnificent views of rock and forest, cliff and river, imaginable; overlooking Forts Montgomery and Clinton, the Race flanked by Anthony’s Nose and the Dunderberg, and the fertile hills of West Chester in the distance.

Near Mrs. Rose lived an old soldier who was wounded at the siege of Fort Montgomery. I found him living with his daughter, a little plump widow of fifty, in a cottage beside a clear stream that comes leaping down from the hills. He was a private in Captain De Vere’s company, Colonel Dubois’s regiment, and was bayoneted in the thigh when the enemy made their way over the ramparts of Fort Montgomery and fought the garrison hand to hand. Although nearly ninety years old, he was vigorous and talked sensibly. I asked the privilege of sketching his portrait, which he readily granted, and I was about unlocking my port-folio for the purpose, when his daughter, resting upon a broom handle, and assuming the shrewd look of a speculator, inquired, "What’ll ye give?" "For what?" I inquired. "For daddy’s likeness," she answered. Unacquainted with the market value of such commodities, and being doubtful as to the present sample possessing much intrinsic worth, I made the indefinite offer of " What is right." "No, no," she said, tuning her voice to a higher key, and beginning to sweep the floor vigorously, "you sha’n’t look at him till you tell me what you’ll give. We’ve been cheated enough a’ready. Two scamps come along here last week, and told my darter they’d make a likeness on her for their breakfasts, and they on’y guv her a nasty piece of black paper, that had a nose no more like sis’s than that tea-pot spout. No, sir; give me a half a dollar, or clear out quick!" The more fortunate silhouettists had evidently ruined my prospects for a gratuitous sitting of the old soldier; and feeling very doubtful whether the demanded half dollar, if paid, would add a mite to his comforts, I respectfully declined giving the price. The filial regard of the dear woman was terribly shocked, and she called me a cheat and other hard names. I shook hands with the old "Continentaler" as I rose to depart, and turning quietly to the dame, who was yet sweeping around the room in a towering passion, invited her to sit for her portrait! This produced a climax; she seized the broom by the brush; I saved my head by closing the door between us. I walked off unscathed and much amused, in the midst of a perfect shower of grape-shot from her tongue-battery, compelled to content myself with a pen and ink sketch of the hornet instead of the one I had asked for.

We crossed to the southern side of the stream, and clambered up a winding and romantic pathway among cedars, chestnuts, and sassafras, to the high table land whereon stood Fort Clinton, within rifle shot of Fort Montgomery. A fine mansion, belonging to Mrs. Pell, with cultivated grounds around it, occupy the area within the ravelins of the old fort. The banks of the fortress have been leveled, its fossé filled up, and not a vestige of it remains. About a quarter of a mile west of Mrs. Pell’s is Lake Sinnipink, a small sheet of crystal water, surrounded by the primitive forest, and as wild in its accompaniments as when the Indian cast his bait in its deep waters. From its western rim rises the highest peak of Bear Mountain to an altitude of more than a thousand feet. The lake itself is one hundred and twenty-three feet above the river.

The boat was a scaly affair, and the piscatory odor was not very agreeable; nevertheless, I had no alternative, and, turning my eyes and nose toward the glowing heavens, I tried to imagine myself in a rose-scented caique in the Golden Horn. I had half succeeded, when three or four loud explosions, that shook the broad mountains and awoke an hundred echoes, broke the charm, and notified me that I was in a fisherman’s shallop, and a little too near for safety to St. Anthony’s Nose, 29 where the constructors of the Hudson River rail-road, then working day and night, were blasting an orifice through that nasal feature of the Highlands. We sheered off toward the Dunderberg, and, shooting across Peekskill Bay, with the tide flowing strongly down its eastern rim, I landed in time for a warm supper at the "Atlantic."

Early on the morning of the 27th [October, 1848.] I made the sketch from Peekskill landing printed on page 734 {original text has "166".}, and then walked up to the village on the slopes and hills, by a steep winding way that overlooks a deep ravine, wherein several iron founderies are nestled. The town is romantically situated among the hills, and from some of its more prominent points of view there are magnificent prospects of the river and Highland scenery in the vicinity. Here, spreading out south and east for miles around, was the ancient manor of Cortlandt, 30 stretching along and far above the whole eastern shore of Haverstraw Bay, and extending back to the Connecticut line. The manor house, near the mouth of the Croton River, is yet standing. Within Peekskill village, opposite the West Chester County Bank, is the old Birdsall residence, a part of which, as seen in the picture upon the next page, is a grocery store. This building was erected by Daniel Birdsall, one of the founders of the village. His store was the first one erected there. 31 The owner and occupant, when I visited it, was a son of the first owner, and was then eighty years of age. His lady, many years his junior, kindly showed me the different apartments made memorable by the presence and occupancy of distinguished men in the Revolution. It was occupied by Washington when the head-quarters of the army were there; and the rooms are pointed out which were used by the chief and La Fayette as sleeping apartments. Chairs, a table, and an old clock which has told the hours for more than eighty years, are still there; and in the parlor where Whitefield once preached, I sat and sketched one of the pieces of this venerable furniture. This old mansion, projecting into and marring the regularity of the street, is an eyesore to the villagers, and when the present owner shall depart, no doubt this relic will be removed by the desecrating hand of improvement.

Van Cortlandt’s house is situated in the midst of one of the fine estates of that family. 32 It is a brick mansion, and was erected in 1773. It stands in the center of a pleasant lawn, shaded by locust trees, on the north side of the post-road. It was occupied by Washington, for a brief space, as head-quarters; and there the Van Cortlandt family resided in safety, while desolation was rife around them. When I visited the mansion [October, 1848.], General Pierre Van Cortlandt, the late owner (brother of General Philip Van Cortlandt, of the manor house), had been dead but a few months. Many of the family portraits were yet there, some of them more than one hundred years old. They have since been removed to the old manor house at Croton. The mansion which we are considering was occupied for a while by General M‘Dougall’s advanced guard, when the British took possession of Peekskill in March, 1777, an event that will be noticed presently. The old oak tree is standing in a field a little eastward of the house, which was used for the purpose of a military whipping-post during the encampment there. It is green and vigorous, and so regular are its branches, that, when in full foliage, its form, above the trunk, is a perfect sphere.

PAULDING’S MONUMENT, AND ST. PETER’S CHURCH. 33

Upon a knoll, a little eastward of Van Cortlandt’s house, is an ancient wooden church, erected in 1767 for worship, according to the rituals of the Church of England. Within its grave-yard, which spreads over the knoll westward, is the monument erected to the memory of John Paulding, one of the captors of Andrè, by the corporation of the city of New York. The monument is constructed of West Chester marble, in the most simple form, consisting of a pedestal surmounted by a cone. It is massive, and so constructed as to last for ages. The base of the pedestal covers a square of seven feet, and is surrounded by a strong iron railing. The height is about thirteen feet. One side of the monument exhibits a representation, in low relief, of the face of the medal voted by Congress to each of the captors of Andrè; the other side exhibits the reverse of the medal. The main inscription is upon the western panel of the pedestal. 34

From the old church-yard I rode to the summit of Gallows Hill, a lofty ridge on the north, and bared of trees by the hand of cultivation. It is famous as a portion of the camp-ground of the division of the American army under Putnam in 1777, and also as the place where a spy was executed, from which circumstance the hill derives its name. Leaving my vehicle at the gate of a farm-house by the road side, I crossed the fields to the place designated by tradition as the spot where the old chestnut-tree stood, near which the spy was hanged. It is about one hundred rods west of the road, on the southeastern slope of the hill, and is marked by a huge bowlder lying upon the surface, by the side of which is the decayed trunk of a chestnut, as seen in the picture, 35 said to be a sprout of the memorable tree. The name of the spy was Edmund Palmer. He was an athletic young man, connected by nature and affection with some of the most respectable families in West Chester, and had a wife and children. He was arrested on suspicion, and enlisting papers, signed by Governor Tryon, were found upon his person. It was also ascertained that he was a lieutenant in a Tory company. These and other unfavorable circumstances made it clear that he was a spy, and on that charge he was tried, found guilty, and condemned to be hung. His young wife pleaded for his life, but the dictates of the stern policy of war made Putnam inexorable. Sir Henry Clinton sent a flag to the American commander, claiming Palmer as a British officer, and menacing the Republicans with his severest wrath if he was not delivered up. Putnam’s sense of duty was as deaf to the menaces of the one as to the tears of the other, and he sent to Clinton the following laconic reply:

In view of the relative position of the belligerent armies at the opening of 1777, Peekskill was regarded by the commander-in-chief as a very important post. Believing that the chief design of the next campaign would be, on the part of the enemy, to accomplish a junction of the forces under Sir William Howe at New York and an army preparing in Canada for invasion, Washington wrote, in a letter to General Schuyler [March 12, 1777.], as follows: "Under these considerations, I can not help thinking much too large a part of our force is directed to Ticonderoga. Peekskill appears to me a much more proper place, where, if the troops are drawn together, they will be advantageously situated to give support to any of the Eastern or Middle States. Should the enemy’s design be to penetrate the country up the North River, they will be well posted to oppose them; should they attempt to penetrate into New England, they will be well stationed to cover it; if they move westward, the Eastern and Southern troops can easily form a junction; and besides, it will oblige the enemy to have a much stronger garrison at New York." 36 With these views, the commander-in-chief determined to collect a respectable force at Peekskill. This was done as speedily as possible, and General Heath, of Massachusetts, was placed in command. This officer was obliged to return to his state, and the command devolved upon General M‘Dougall. 37 Cattle and military stores, in large quantities, were collected at Peekskill and in the vicinity; and the post, not being very strongly manned, attracted the attention of the enemy. Sir William Howe projected a scheme to capture or destroy them. Stratagem was a part of his plan. He caused a conversation on the subject to be held in the hearing of an American officer who had been captured at Fort Washington, in which it was arranged that an excursion was to be made into the country by three divisions: one to go up the Sound and land at Mamaroneck, another to march up the center road by Kingsbridge, and a third to go up the Hudson and land at Tarrytown. The officer was soon afterward released, and escorted with a flag to the American lines. The object was to have him report the conversation, and thus draw off General M‘Dougall’s attention from the real point of attack. M‘Dougall had only two hundred and fifty effective men, too few to attempt opposition. He immediately commenced sending his stores to Forts Clinton and Montgomery for safety, but before he had accomplished his design, ten sail of British vessels appeared off Tarrytown, and two went up to Haverstraw Bay, at a point twelve miles below Peekskill [March 22, 1777.]. The next day the whole fleet anchored in Peekskill Bay; and at one o’clock, five hundred men, in eight flat-boats, under the command of Colonel Bird, landed at Lent’s Cove, on the south side of the bay. They had four pieces of light artillery, drawn by the sailors. General M‘Dougall retreated to Gallows Hill and vicinity, giving directions for destroying such stores as could not be removed. At the same time, he sent a dispatch to Lieutenant-colonel Willett, at Fort Constitution, to leave a subaltern’s command there, and hasten to his assistance. The British held possession of the town until next day [March 24.], when a detachment advanced toward the Highlands. These were attacked by Colonel Willett, and a smart skirmish ensued. The detachment retreated back to the main body of the enemy, and in the evening, favored by the light of the moon, they all embarked and sailed down the river. Their object, the destruction of the stores, was partially accomplished, but not by their own hands. They had nine of their number killed in the skirmish with Willett, and four at the verge of the creek, while attempting to burn some boats. The Americans had one man killed by a cannon shot. 38 Two or three houses were burned, and about forty sheep, furnished by the Tories, were carried off.

Near the banks of Canopus Creek, and overlooked by Gallows Hill, is Continental Village. It is about three miles from Peekskill, at the main entrance to the Highland passes northward. There, in 1777, were constructed barracks sufficient to accommodate two thousand men. A large number of cattle, and a great quantity of military stores under the charge of Major Campbell, were collected there. Two small redoubts were erected on the high ground, for the double purpose of protecting the public property and guarding the mountain road. Hither, on the morning of the 9th of October [1777.], three days after the capture of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, General Tryon was detached with Emerick’s chasseurs and other Germans, with a three-pounder, to destroy the settlement. He accomplished the object most effectually. The barracks, and nearly every house in the little village, together with the public stores, were consumed, and many of the cattle were slaughtered. The inhabitants fled to the hills, while the few troops that were left when Putnam and the main force retired to Fishkill on the fall of the mountain fortresses, were compelled to fly for safety. In a few hours the smiling little valley was a scene of utter desolation. 39

General Parsons 40 marched down from Fishkill with two thousand men a few days afterward, and took possession of Peekskill. From that time it was the scene of no stirring military events, other than those incident to the brief encampment of regiments or divisions of the American army.

After sketching the only prominent object on the site of poor Palmer’s gallows, I resumed the reins, and, when part way down the northern slope of the ridge, turned up a green lane near the Soldier’s Spring 41 to the farm-house of Mr. Lent, to inquire for an aged couple of that name. Informed that they lived at a little village called Oregon, a mile and a half distant, I returned to Peekskill Hollow, and proceeded thither. My journey was fruitless of information. They were, indeed, a venerable pair; one aged eighty-four, and the other eighty-three years.

After dinner at Peekskill, I rode down to Verplanck’s Point, eight miles below. 42 It was a lovely afternoon [October 27, 1848.]; a fine road amid ever-varying scenery, and every rock, and knoll, and estuary of the river clustered over with historic associations, made the journey of an hour one of great pleasure and interest. Verplanck’s Point is the termination of a peninsula of gently rolling land, gradually ascending from the neck toward the shore, where it ends in a bluff, from thirty to fifty feet high. Here, during the memorable season of land and town speculation, when the water-lot mania emulated that of the tulip and the South Sea games, a large village was mapped out, and one or two fine mansions were erected. The bubble burst, and many fertile acres there, where corn and potatoes once yielded a profit to the cultivator, are scarred and made barren by intersecting streets, not depopulated, but unpopulated, save by the beetle and grasshopper. On the brow of the Point, near the western extremity, and overlooking the water, a small fortification, called Fort Fayette, was erected. It was an eligible site for a fort; and, in connection with the fortress on the rocky promontory opposite, was capable of being made a formidable defense at this, the lower gate of the Hudson Highlands. These two promontories make the river quite narrow, and, if well fortified, might defy the passage of any number of hostile vessels. The site of Fort Fayette is distinctly traceable in the orchard upon the high grounds in the rear of Mr. Bleakly’s store upon the wharf. The mounds and fossé of the main fort, as it was enlarged and strengthened by the British, and also the embankments of the smaller out-works, are quite prominent in many places.

The small forts at Verplanck’s and Stony Points were captured by the enemy commanded by Sir Henry Clinton in person, on the 1st of June, 1779. The garrison of Stony Point consisted of only about forty men, and that at Verplanck’s of seventy men, commanded by Captain Armstrong. As these forts secured a free communication between the troops of New England and those of the central and southern portions of the confederacy, Clinton determined to dislodge the Americans therefrom. Accordingly, on the 30th of May, he sailed up the river with a strong force, accompanied by General Vaughan; the flotilla was commanded by Admiral Collier. They landed in two divisions on the morning of the 31st [May, 1779.], the one under Vaughan, on the east side, eight miles below Verplanck’s, and the other under Clinton, on the west side, a little above Haverstraw. The garrison at Stony Point retired to the Highlands on the approach of the enemy, and the fort changed masters without bloodshed. The next morning, the guns of the captured fortress, and the cannons and mortars dragged up during the night, were pointed toward Fort Fayette opposite, and a heavy cannonade was opened upon it. Unable to make a respectable resistance to this assault, and attacked in the rear by Vaughan’s division, the little garrison surrendered themselves prisoners of war. 43 The loss of these forts was greatly lamented by Washington, and his first care was to make an effort to recover them, for West Point was now in danger. The main body of the American army was moved from Middlebrook toward the Highlands, and Washington established his quarters at Smith’s Clove, far in the rear of Haverstraw. 44 Sir Henry Clinton gave orders for the immediate strengthening of the forts, and to guard the detachments left for the purpose, he descended the river with his army only as far as Phillipsburgh, now Yonkers.

REAR VIEW AT STONY POINT. 45

On the morning of the 15th of July [1779.], all the Massachusetts light infantry were marched to the quarters of Wayne at Sandy Beach, fourteen miles from Stony Point. At meridian on that exceedingly sultry day, the whole body moved through narrow defiles, over rough crags, and across deep morasses, in single file, and at eight in the evening rendezvoused a mile and a half below Stony Point. There they remained until General Wayne and several officers returned from reconnoitering the works of the enemy, when they were formed into column, and moved silently forward under the guidance of a negro slave belonging to a Captain Lamb who resided in the neighborhood. 46

The position of the fortress was such that it seemed almost impregnable. Situated upon a huge rocky bluff, an island at high water, and always inaccessible dry-shod, except across a narrow causeway in the rear, it was strongly defended by outworks and a double row of abatis. Upon three sides of the rock were the waters of the Hudson, and on the fourth was a morass, deep and dangerous. But Wayne 47 was not easily deterred by obstacles; and tradition avers, that while conversing with Washington on the subject of this expedition, he remarked, with emphasis, "General, I’ll storm hell if you will only plan it." He possessed the true fire of the flint, and was always governed by the maxim, "Where there’s a will there’s a way." He resolved to storm the fort at all hazards, and only waited for the ebbing of the tide, and the deep first slumber of the garrison, to move toward the fortress.

VIEW OF STONY POINT FROM THE SOUTHWEST. 48

At a little past midnight the advanced parties moved silently to the charge, one company on the southern, and the other toward the northern portion of the height. They were followed by the two main divisions; the right, composed of the regiments of Febiger and Meigs, being led by General Wayne in person. The left was composed of Colonel Butler’s regiment, and two companies under Major Murfey. The Americans were undiscovered until within pistol shot of the pickets upon the heights, when a skirmish ensued between the sentinels and the advanced guards. The pickets fired several shots, but the Americans, true to orders, relied entirely upon the bayonet, and pressed forward with vigor. The garrison was aroused from their slumbers, and instantly the deep silence of the night was broken by the roll of the drum, the loud cry To arms! to arms! the rattle of musketry from the ramparts and behind the abatis, and the roar of cannon, charged with the deadly grape-shot, from the embrasures. 49 In the face of this terrible storm, the Americans forced their way, at the point of the bayonet, through every obstacle, until the van of each column met in the center of the works, where each arrived at the same time. 50 At the inner abatis, Wayne was struck upon the head by a musket ball, which brought him upon his knees. His two brave aids, Fishbow and Archer, raised him to his feet, and carried him gallantly through the works. Believing himself mortally wounded, the general exclaimed, as he arose, "March on! carry me into the fort, for I will die at the head of my column!" But the wound was not very severe, and he was able to join in the loud huzzas that arose when the two columns met as victors within the fort. Colonel De Fleury first entered the works, and struck the British standard with his own hands. The garrison surrendered at discretion as prisoners of war, and that brilliant achievement was rendered the more glorious for the clemency which the victors exercised toward the vanquished. Not a life was taken after the flag was struck and the garrison had pleaded for quarters. Wayne had but fifteen killed and eighty-three wounded; the British had sixty-three killed; 51 and Johnson, the commander, with five hundred and forty-three officers and men, were made prisoners. The ships of the enemy lying in the river in front of Stony Point slipped their cables and moved down to a place of security. Before daylight, Wayne sent to the commander-in-chief the brief but comprehensive reply, of which a fac simile is here given:

GOLD MEDAL AWARDED BY CONGRESS TO GENERAL WAYNE. 52

The storming and capture of Stony Point, regarded as an exhibition of skill and indomitable courage, was one of the most brilliant events of the war. General Wayne, the leader of the enterprise, was every where greeted with rapturous applause. 53 Congress testified their grateful sense of his services by a vote of thanks "for his brave, prudent, and soldierly conduct." It was also resolved that a medal of gold, emblematical of this action, should be struck, and presented to General Wayne.

MEDAL AWARDED TO LIEUTENANT-COLONEL DE FLEURY. 54

Thanks were also presented by Congress to Lieutenant-colonel De Fleury 55 and Major Stewart, and a medal of silver was ordered to be struck and presented to each. The conduct of Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox was warmly applauded, and brevets of captain was given to each, and to Mr. Archer, the volunteer aid of Wayne, who was the bearer of the general’s letter to Washington on the occasion. Pursuant to the recommendation of the commander-in-chief, and in fulfillment of promises made by Wayne before the assault, with the concurrence of Washington, Congress resolved, "That the value of the military stores taken at Stony Point be ascertained and divided among the gallant troops by whom it was reduced, in such manner and proportions as the commander-in-chief shall prescribe." 56

MEDAL AWARDED TO MAJOR STEWART. 57

3 This is a view of the room in the Robinson House in which Arnold was at breakfast when he received Colonel Jameson’s letter announcing the arrest of Andrè. It is preserved in its original style, which is quite antique. The ceiling is low; the heavy beams are bare; the fire-place surrounded with neat panel-work, without a mantel-shelf. The door on the right opens into a small room which Arnold used as an office; the windows on the left open upon the garden and lawn on the south, from whence I made the sketch of the house printed on page 708.

7 The coxswain on the occasion was James Larvey. The aged Beverly Garrison, whom I saw at Fort Montgomery, knew him well. He said Larvey always declared that, had he been aware of Arnold’s intention, he would have steered to Verplanck’s Point, even if the traitor had threatened to blow his brains out.

15 This kill, or creek, is the dividing line between the towns of Monroe and Cornwall, in Orange county. Its correct orthography is uncertain. Upon a map of the State of New York made in 1779 it is called Coplap’s Kill; in the British plan of the engagements there, of which the map given on page 734 {original text has "166".} is a copy, it is spelled Peploap’s; Romans, who was engaged in the construction of the forts, wrote it Pooploop’s.

24 These abatis were placed on the margin of the outlet of Lake Sinipink, near its center, the place from which the view on page 731 was sketched.

The monument was erected in 1827; the cone was placed on the pedestal on the 22d of November of that year, in the presence of a large concourse of citizens, who were addressed by William Paulding, then Mayor of New York. A copy of the medal presented to the captors of Andrè may be found on page 773.