if he should order the execution of Major Andre. It should seem impossible that General Robertson could suppose that such insolence would receive any other treatment than utter contempt.

October 2d.-Major Andre is no more among the living. I have Just witnessed his exit. It was a tragical scene of the deepest interest. During his confinement and trial, he exhibited those proud and elevated sensibilities which designate greatness and dignity of mind. Not a murmur or a sigh ever escaped him, and the civilities and attentions bestowed on him were 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 recommends them to his particular attention.

The principal guard officer, who was constantly in the room with the prisoner, relates that when the hour of his execution was announced to him in the morning, he received it without emotion, and while all present were affected with silent gloom, he retained a firm countenance, with calmness and composure of mind. Observing his servant enter the room in tears, he exclaimed, leave me till you can show yourself more manly. His breakfast being sent to him from the table of General Washington, which had been done every day of his confinement, he partook of it as usual, and having shaved and dressed himself, he placed his hat on the table, and cheerfully said to the guard officers, 'I am ready at any moment, gentlemen, to wait on you.' The fatal hour having arrived, a large detachment of troops was paraded, and an immense concourse of people assembled; almost all our general and field officers, excepting his Excellency and his staff, were present on horseback; melancholy and gloom pervaded all ranks, and the scene was affectingly awful. I was so near during the solemn march to the fatal spot, as to observe every movement, and participate in every emotion which the melancholy scene was calculated to produce. Major Andre walked from the stone house, in which he had been confined, between two of our subaltern officers, arm in arm; the eyes of the immense multitude were fixed on him, who, rising superior to the fears of death, appeared as if conscious of the dignified deportment which he displayed. He betrayed no want of fortitude, but retained a complacent smile on his countenance, and politely bowed to several gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully returned. 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 by his side? Instantly recovering his composure, he said, 'I am reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode.' While waiting and standing near the gallows, I observed some degree of trepidation; 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 readiness, he stepped quickly into the wagon, and at this moment he appeared to shrink,

6

but instantly elevating his head with firmness, he said, 'It will be but a momentary pang,' and taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the provost marshal 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 spectators. The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose over his head and adjusted it to his neck, without the assistance of the awkward executioner. Colonel Scammel now informed him that he had an opportunity to speak, if he desired it; he raised the handkerchief from his eyes and said, 'I pray you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.' The wagon being now removed from under him, he was suspended, and instantly expired; it proved indeed 'but a momentary pang.' He was dressed in his royal regimentals and boots, and his remains were placed in an ordinary coffin, and interred at the foot of the gallows; and the spot was consecrated by the tears of thousands."

The above cut is copied from an engraving of Andre in the "Political Magazine," published in London in 1781, to which is affixed a fac simile of his hand writing. Major Andre at the time of his death was 31 years of age. "He was well made, rather slender, about five feet nine inches high, and remarkably active; his complexion was dark, his countenance good and somewhat serious. He excelled in many elegant accomplishments, such as drawing, painting, and dancing; and possessed the modern languages, particularly French, Italian, and German to an uncommon degree of perfection." A monument was erected by

order of the king, in Westminster Abbey, to his memory. His remains were taken up in 1821, by Mr. Buchanan, British Consul in New York, removed to England and deposited near this monu

ment.

Burning of New London and Storming of Fort Griswold.— While the combined French and American armies were advancing to the siege of Yorktown, Gen. Arnold, the traitor, was appointed to conduct an expedition against New London, Conn. The troops employed in this service were landed, on the 6th of September, 1781, on each side of the harbor, in two detachments; one commanded by Lieut. Colonel Eyre, the other by General Arnold.

"About daybreak (says the Connecticut Gazette) on Thursday morning last, 24 sail of the enemy's shipping appeared to the westward of this harbor, which by many were supposed to be a plundering party after stock; alarm guns were immediately fired, but the discharge of cannon in the harbor has become so frequent of late, that they answered little or no purpose. The defenceless state of the fortifications and the town are obvious to our readers; a few of the inhabitants who were equipped, advanced towards the place where the enemy were thought likely to make their landing, and manœuvred on the heights adjacent, until the enemy about 9 o'clock landed in two divisions, and about 800 men each, one of them at Brown's farm near the light-house, the other at Groton Point: the division that landed near the light-house marched up the road keeping up large flanking parties, who were attacked in different places on their march by the inhabitants, who had spirit and resolution to oppose their progress. The main body of the enemy proceeded to the town, and set fire to the stores on the beach, and immediately after to the dwelling houses lying on the Mill Cove. The scattered fire of our little parties, unsupported by our neighbors more distant, galled them so that they soon began to retire, setting fire promiscuously on their way. The fire from the stores communicated to the shipping that lay at the wharves, and a number were burnt; others swung to single fast, and remained unhurt.

At 4 o'clock, they began to quit the town with great precipitation, and were pursued by our brave citizens with the spirit and ardor of veterans, and driven on board their boats. Five of the enemy were killed, and about twenty wounded; among the latter is a Hessian captain, who is a prisoner, as are seven others. We lost four killed and ten or twelve wounded, some mortally. The most valuable part of the town is reduced to ashes, and all the stores. Fort Trumbull, not being tenable on the land side, was evacuated as the enemy advanced, and the few men in it crossed.

the river to Fort Griswold, on Groton Hill, which was soon after invested by the division that landed at the point.

The buildings burnt at New London in this expedition by the British troops, were 65 dwelling houses containing 97 families, 31 stores, 18 shops, 20 barns, and 9 public and other buildings, among which were the Court House, Jail and Church-in all 143.

In many instances where houses were situated at a great distance from any stores, and contained nothing but household furniture, they were set on fire, notwithstanding the earnest cries and entreaties of the women and children in them, who were threatened with being burnt in them if they did not instantly leave them. Indeed two houses were bought off for 101. each, of an officer who appeared to be a captain, upon condition, however, that he should not be made known; and where the houses were not burnt, they were chiefly plundered of all that could be carried off. At the harbor's mouth, the houses of poor fishermen were stripped of all their furniture of every kind, the poor people having nothing but the clothes that they had on."

The detachment under Lieut. Col. Eyre, about eight hundred in number, landed on the east side of the harbor, opposite the light house, and having found a lame boy collecting cattle, compelled him to show them the cart path to the fort. They landed about nine o'clock in the morning of a most delightful day, clear and still. Fort Griswold was under the command of Lieut. Col. Wm. Ledyard, uncle to the celebrated traveller of the same name. He resided on Groton bank opposite New London, and was much beloved and respected by his neighbors. On the advance of the enemy, Col. Ledyard having but about one hundred and fifty men with him in the fort, sent out an officer to get assistance, as there were a number of hundred of people collected in the vicinity; this officer, by drinking too much, became intoxicated, and no reinforcement was obtained. On the rejection of a summons to surrender, the British extended their lines so that they were scattered over the fields and rushed on to the attack with trailed arms, under the fire of the Americans, to the assault of the fort on three sides. Having effected a lodgment in the ditch, they cut away the pickets, and having scaling ladders, they entered the fort and knocked away the gate on the inside. While the British were in the ditch, they had cold shot thrown on them, and as they were entering the embrazures, the garrison changed their weapons and fought desperately with spears or pikes fifteen or sixteen feet in length, which did considerable execution. Unfortunately they had lent the greater part of the pikes belonging to the fort to a privateer a days before. Major Montgomery was hoisted up on the walls of the fort by his soldiers; as he was flourishing his sword on his

few

Another offiAs he fell, he

Col. Led

sword to an

entrance, he was mortally wounded by Jordan Freeman, a colored man, who pierced him through with a spear. cer was killed by a musket ball while in the fort. exclaimed, put every one to death, don't spare one.' yard finding further resistance useless, presented his officer, who asked him who commanded the fort. I did,' said Col. Ledyard, but you do now;' the officer (Capt. Bloomfield,) took his sword and instantly plunged it into his bosom. Colonel Ledyard fell on his face and instantly expired. An indiscriminate massacre now took place, till a British officer exclaimed, my soul cannot bear such destruction,' and ordered a parley to be beat. Such had been the butchery in the fort, that it was over shoes in blood in some parts of the parade ground. Soon after the surrender, a wagon was loaded with wounded Americans and set off down the hill; it struck an apple tree with great force, and knocked several of these bleeding men out, and caused their instant death. One of these distressed men having been thrown out of the wagon, and while crawling towards the fence on his hands and knees, was brutally knocked on the head by the but end of a musket, by one of the refugees who were attached to the British army. The British embarked at the foot of the hill near the ferry, and took off a number of prisoners with them. As they left the fort, they set fire to a train, intending to blow up the magazine, in which were about one hundred barrels of powder. Fortunately it was extinguished by our people, who entered the fort soon after the enemy left it. It is stated that the enemy lost in the attack on the fort 54 killed and 143 wounded, several of whom afterwards died of their wounds. The killed of the enemy were buried by their comrades at the gate of the fort, and were so slightly covered that many of their legs and arms remained above ground; our people who were killed at the fort, were stripped, and so disfigured, covered with blood and dust, that with the exception of two or three, they could not be recognized by their friends, except by some particular marks on their persons.

A granite monument, 127 feet in height, has been erected on this spot, on which is the following inscription, to which is added a list of the names of those who fell, eighty-five in number.

* Most of the facts mentioned in this account were related to the compiler of this work by an eye witness, Mr. Joshua Baker, of Groton, who was in the fort at the time it was stormed. He was wounded, carried off prisoner to New York, and confined in the "Sugar House." He mentioned that when the enemy arrived at New York they reported a loss of five hundred men in killed, wounded, and missing, in this expedition. Mr. Baker was under the command of Col. Ledyard upwards of two years, and was the first man who stood sentry at Fort Griswold. Some particulars were also obtained from Capt Elijah Bailey, the post master at Groton Bank, who was one of the defenders of the fort at the time of the massacre.