56

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, September twentieth, I awoke cold, bone sore, and very hungry. Forest, river, rocks, plus a wilderness of ignorance, surrounded me. For a while, I remained where I was, in painful melancholy. But I knew the reality. Not to continue would be fatal in all respects.

I roused myself and walked as the day before, along the river’s edge. I went in, out, across modest inlets and small creeks, but always, always, I moved north.

In Beekman Mansion, Major John André, assisted by Peter Laune, his servant, dressed with care. It was imperative to André that when he met General Arnold he appear at his best. He would be representing the British Army. Everything he did, the way he appeared and talked, the way he dealt with others, would help to establish his authority, dignity, and power. It was not just an honor to wear the uniform; he would be representing the greatest nation on earth.

Besides, as André was well aware, General Arnold, despite his reputation as a good military man, was not a gentleman, merely a colonial merchant. When André came face-to-face with him, he must assert his superiority from the first. There was something amusing too about the fact that Arnold had married Peggy Shippen, the girl André had flirted with when he was in Philadelphia.

As André stood before his looking glass, musing, adjusting his wig, there was a knock on his dressing room door. André’s servant opened it. A soldier stood in the hallway. “Sir,” he said, saluting, while addressing Major André, “the boat you requested to take you and Colonel Robinson to the Vulture is ready.”

“Thank you.”

André’s servant shut the door. “Sir, may I take the liberty of asking where you are going?”

“Just a pleasant excursion, Peter,” said André. “I’ll be back very soon.”

I don’t know how far I walked. Save for a handful of blackberries, I ate nothing. They colored my hands red, as if I were a murderess caught in the act. The dye reminded me of the black ink from Mr. Gaine’s printing press. Those days seemed far beyond.

As I made my way, I began to perceive that directly north was a large extension of land that reached far into the river. Having no idea what it meant for my journey, I simply pressed on. As the day wore, however, I began to grasp that the land I’d seen had a shoreline that cut in deeply in an easterly direction.

I soon came upon the mouth of a wide inlet, far too wide for me to wade across. Looking eastward, up the inlet, I saw I would have to go a goodly distance eastward before I could even consider crossing over.

The thought of such a detour wearied me. Would I never get there? In truth, I no longer really knew where there was!

At 7 p.m., Major André and Colonel Robinson reached the Vulture. Captain Sutherland welcomed them aboard again and showed them to a small cabin where a simple dinner awaited. Leaving his guests to their food, the captain ordered the ship’s sails be hoisted, the anchor lifted. Slowly, the Vulture began to move upriver toward its appointed meeting place off Tellers Point.

In expectation of André’s arrival, General Arnold went to the home of Mr. Joshua Hett Smith. It sat twenty miles south of West Point, on the western bank of Hudson’s River. Situated on a bluff, it had a good view of Tellers Point. Moreover, it was not far from the shore point—Long Clove Mountain cove—where Arnold planned to meet André.

Arnold ordered Smith to find a boat and rowers, telling his friend that he was meeting a valued business visitor, a Mr. Anderson. Mr. Smith, having learned that safety for him in the war meant asking no questions, agreed to go to the Vulture. It would be anchored off Tellers Point. Mr. Anderson was on board. At midnight, Smith would convey the gentleman to shore. Arnold would meet him. Such was the plan.

Arnold was satisfied that this time the meeting would absolutely take place.

Tired, hungry, and dejected, having no idea where I was, I sat down upon a boulder and gazed upon Hudson’s River. It was quite wide at that spot. The evening was hot. Mosquito flies buzzed my ears. I told myself I should take a short nap and then push on. I lay down, closed my eyes, and slept.

As I slept, the Vulture sailed right by me. When it reached Tellers Point, its anchor splashed down and held. Waiting for Arnold or his messenger to arrive, André walked the deck with Colonel Robinson.

Onshore, Mr. Smith was having a difficult time recruiting rowers to take him to the ship. It was unfortunate, but General Arnold and Mr. Anderson would have to wait until the next night to meet.