ness threw the family on their own resources. "During the American Revolutionary war," she informs us in her admirable little autobiography, "I learned to weave bobbin lace, which was then saleable, and much more profitable to me than spinning, sewing, or knitting, which had previously been my employment. At this period, I found but little time for literary pursuits. But at the termination of the American war, this resource failed, and I was again left in a destitute situation." Thus circumstanced, she commenced the View of Religious Opinions, giving instructions in Greek and Latin at the same time to three young students of theology in the neighborhood. Her "View," after various difficulties in finding a printer, was published in 1784. It met with a good sale, of which the printer reaped the profit. A second edition, enlarged and corrected, was published in 1791, which by the aid of friends, who made her bargain with the publisher and exerted themselves in obtaining subscribers for copies, was so successful, that, as she says, "the emolument I derived from it not only placed me in a comfortable situation, but enabled me to pay the debts I had contracted during mine and my sister's illness, and to put out a small sum at interest."

Her next undertaking was a History of New England, in the preparation for which she pored so assiduously over old colonial records and other dim manuscripts, as to seriously impair her eyesight. By a cessation from labor, and frequent use of "laudanum and sea water several times in the course of the day, for two years," she recovered, and by employing an amanuensis, was enabled to print the book in 1799.

Her history meeting with a good sale, she formed the plan of abridging it for the use of schools. Before doing this, she "set about writing a concise view of the Christian religion, selected from the writings of eminent laymen." "I found it difficult," she continues, "to procure proper materials for the work, as I was utterly unable to purchase books. A considerable part of this compilation, as well as the additions to the third edition of my View of Religions, was written in booksellers' shops. I went to make visits in Boston, in order to consult books in this way, which it was impossible for me to buy or borrow." These difficulties, so simply narrated that we almost lose sight of their formidableness, surmounted, and the manuscript completed, others followed with publishers, and she was glad at last to sell the copyright for one hundred dollars in books.

Her abridged History of New England was anticipated by a work of a similar character by the Rev. Jedidiah Morse, author of the first American geography. This led to a controversy which excited much attention and warmth of feeling. Her book, when it appeared, unfortunately brought her no remuneration, on account of the failure of her printer. Her personal and literary merits had, however, by this time gained her many and influential friends, among whom President Adams was preeminent in rank and kindness, and by their aid she was enabled to supply her simple wants and prosecute her studies.

The labor to which she next devoted herself, was a History of the Jews. This subject engaged

Hannah Adams.

all her attention. "If you would know Miss Adams," said one of her friends, "you must talk to her about the Jews." She corresponded with the Abbé Gregoire upon the subject, and consulted every authority to which she could obtain access. In this last respect, her resources were less limited than at previous periods of her life, as she had free access to the Boston Athenæum, and the library of her friend the Rev. J. S. Buckminster. Her failing health, however, prevented the completion of her work.

In the latter years of her life, Miss Adams enjoyed a comfortable annuity raised by her friends. She died at Brookline, near Boston, 1832. Her autobiography, with a continuation by a friend, Mrs. H. F. Lee, was published in the same year.*

HENRY LEE.

HENRY LEE, the author of the Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department of the United States, was a member of a leading family in Virginia, where he was born, January 29, 1756. He was educated at Princeton College.

In 1776 he was made captain of one of the six companies of cavalry raised by Virginia. In September, 1777, these companies formed into one regiment were united with the Continental army.

Lee soon gained distinction by the high state of discipline and efficiency he maintained in his company, which at the battle of Germantown was selected by Washington as his body-guard. In January, 1778, when occupying with ten men a stone house, the rest of his troop being absent in search of forage, the building was surrounded by two hundred of the enemy's cavalry, who endeavored to take him prisoner, but were met with so determined a resistance that they were compelled to retreat. He was soon after this promoted to the rank of major, with the command of three companies of cavalry; and in 1780, having been made lieutenant-colonel, was sent with his

A Memoir of Miss Hannah Adams, written by herself, with additional notices by a friend. 1882. 12mo. pp. 110. Boston, Gray & Bowen.

troops to join the southern army under General Greene, where he remained until the close of the war, distinguishing himself in several actions.

In 1786 he was sent to Congress, where he remained until the new constitution went into operation. In 1792, having previously served in the house of delegates and the convention for the ratification of the federal Constitution, he was elected governor of Virginia. In the last of his three years of office, he was placed by President Washington in command of the forces sent to the western part of Pennsylvania to suppress the Whiskey Insurrection. In 1799 he was sent to Congress.

He was honorably distinguished by this body in being selected to deliver the funeral eulogy on Washington, in the course of which the memorable sentence, "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen," occurs.

Lee remained in Congress until the accession of Jefferson in 1801, after which he did not again hold public office.

His profuse hospitality involved him in pecuniary embarrassment, which, however disagreeable to himself, proved advantageous to the public, as during and probably in consequence of his confinement as a debtor,* within the bounds of Spottsylvania county, in 1809, he wrote his celebrated memoirs. They were published without any preface in two octavo volumes, by Bradford and Inskeep, Philadelphia. In July, 1812, while in Baltimore, Lee took part in the defence of the house occupied by Mr. Hanson, one of the editors of the Federal Republican. This paper had shortly before published strictures on the declaration of war of June 19, and its office had in consequence been attacked by a mob, who destroyed the printing materials and building. The publication of the paper was soon after resumed in Georgetown, and the numbers distributed from a house in Baltimore. Anticipating an attack, Hanson had provided arms and been joined by General Greene, General Lingan, John Howard Payne, and others. The mob on the evening of the 27th attempted to force the door. Muskets were fired during the confusion, by which two persons were killed and several wounded. The military appeared, and the occupants of the house surrendered on promise of being protected within the city prison. On the following night the prison was attacked by the mob, who succeeded in effecting an entrance, killed Lingan and wounded eleven others, among whom was General Lee. Some of the rioters were arrested, tried, and acquitted. In consequence of the injuries thus received, the General's health declined. A visit to the West Indies proved of no benefit to him, and he returned to the United States in 1818, where he died on the 25th of March, at the residence of Mrs. Shaw, the daughter of General Greene, Cumberland Island, near St. Mary's, Georgia.

Lee's memoirs were reprinted in 1827 at Wash

A story is told, that, having been arrested for debt, as he was riding along with the sheriff, he remarked, that he was glad that he was on his way to a place of confinement, since having been bitten by a mad dog he needed to be taken care of. Soon after this introduction of the subject, he assumed such energetic symptoms of mania that the official made off in hot haste.-Allen's Biog. Dic.

ington. The editor, H. Lee, in a brief preface, acknowledged the assistance of friends in providing for the expenses of the edition. Such aid should not have been needed, for the work, in addition to its historical value as the testimony of a prominent actor, is valuable on account of its literary merit as a life-like and spirited narrative. It is plain in style, and the want of dates renders it somewhat inconvenient in the absence of an index for reference.

One of the most valuable and interesting portions of the book is the minute narrative of the gallant attempt of Sergeant Champe to carry off Arnold from New York, after the detection of his treason, an object Washington was anxious to accomplish, from a humane desire to save André. Champe undertook the service at the request of Lee, who overcame the sergeant's scruples to desertion from the American army, a course essential to preserve secresy. He was instructed to obtain possession of Arnold if possible, but under no circumstances to take his life.

CHAMPE'S EXPEDITION.

Giving to the sergeant three guineas, and presenting his best wishes, Lee recommended him to start without delay, and enjoined him to communicate his arrival in New York as soon thereafter as might be practicable. Champe pulling out his watch, compared it with the major's, reminding the latter of the importance of holding back pursuit, which he was convinced would take place in the course of the night, and which might be fatal, as he knew that he should be obliged to zigzag in order to avoid the patroles, which would consume time. It was now nearly eleven. The sergeant returned to camp, and taking his cloak, valise and orderly book, he drew his horse from the picket, and mounting him put himself upon fortune. Lee, charmed with his expeditious consummation of the first part of the enter prise, retired to rest. Useless attempt! the past scene could not be obliterated; and, indeed, had that been practicable, the interruption which ensued would have stopped repose.

Within half an hour Captain Carnes, officer of the day, waited upon the major, and with considerable emotion told him that one of the patrole had fallen in with a dragoon, who, being challenged, put spur to his horse and escaped, though instantly pursued. Lee complaining of the interruption, and pretending to be extremely fatigued by his ride to and from headquarters, answered as if he did not understand what had been said, which compelled the captain to repeat it. Who can the fellow that was pursued be inquired the major; adding, a countryman, probably. No, replied the captain, the patrole sufficiently distinguished him as to know that he was a dragoon; probably one from the army, if not certainly one of our own. This idea was ridiculed from its improbability, as during the whole war but a single dragoon had deserted from the legion. This did not convince Carnes, so much stress was it now the fashion to lay on the desertion of Arnold, and the probable effect of his example. The captain withdrew to examine the squadron of horse, whom he had ordered to assemble in pursu ance of established usage on similar occasions. quickly he returned, stating that the scoundrel was known, and was no less a person than the sergeantmajor, who had gone off with his horse, baggage, arms and orderly book-so presumed, as neither the one nor the other could be found. Sensibly affected at the supposed baseness of a soldier extremely re

Very

spected, the captain added that he had ordered a party to make ready for pursuit, and begged the major's written orders.

Occasionally this discourse was interrupted, and every idea suggested which the excellent character of the sergeant warranted, to induce the suspicion that he had not deserted, but had taken the liberty to leave camp with a view to personal pleasure: an example, said Lee, too often set by the officers themselves, destructive as it was of discipline, opposed as it was to orders, and disastrous as it might prove to the corps in the course of service.

Some little delay was thus interposed; but it being now announced that the pursuing party was ready, major Lee directed a change in the officer, saying that he had a particular service in view, which he had determined to entrust to the lieutenant ready for duty, and which probably must be performed in the morning. He therefore directed him to summon cornet Middleton for the present command. Lee was induced thus to act, first to add to the delay, and next from his knowledge of the tenderness of Middleton's disposition, which he hoped would lead to the protection of Champe should he be taken. Within ten minutes Middleton appeared to receive his orders, which were delivered to him made out in the customary form, and signed by the major. "Pursue so far as you can with safety sergeant Champe, who is suspected of deserting to the enemy, and has taken the road leading to Paulus Hook. Bring him alive, that he may suffer in the presence of the army; but kill him if he resists, or escapes after being taken."

Detaining the cornet a few minutes longer in advising him what course to pursue,-urging him to take care of the horse and accoutrements, if recovered, and enjoining him to be on his guard, lest he might, by his eager pursuit, improvidently fall into the hands of the enemy,-the major dismissed Middleton, wishing him success. A shower of rain fell soon after Champe's departure, which enabled the pursuing dragoons to take the trail of his horse; knowing, as officer and trooper did, the make of their shoes, whose impression was an unerring guide.*

When Middleton departed, it was a few minutes past twelve; so that Champe had only the start of rather more than an hour, by no means as long as was desired. Lee became very unhappy, not only because the estimable and gallant Champe might be injured, but lest the enterprise might be delayed: and he spent a sleepless night. The pursuing party during the night, was, on their part, delayed by the necessary halts to examine occasionally the road, as the impression of the horse's shoes directed their course; this was unfortunately too evident, no other horse having passed along the road since the shower. When the day broke, Middleton was no longer forced to halt, and he pressed on with rapidity. Ascending an eminence before he reached the Three Pigeons, some miles on the north of the village of Bergen, as the pursuing party reached its summit, Champe was descried not more than half a mile in front. Resembling an Indian in his vigilance, the sergeant at the same moment discovered the party (whose object he was no stranger to), and giving spur to his horse, he determined to outstrip his pursuers. Middleton at the same instant put his horses to the top of their speed; and being (as the legion

*The horses being all shod by our own farriers, the shoes were made in the same form; which, with a private mark annexed to the fore-shoes, and known to the troopers, pointed out the trail of our dragoons to each other, which was often very useful.

all were) well acquainted with the country, he recollected a short route through the woods to the bridge below Bergen, which diverged from the great road just after you gain the Three Pidgeons. Reaching the point of separation, he halted; and dividing his party, directed a sergeant with a few dragoons to take the near cut, and possess with all possible despatch the bridge, while he with the residue followed Champe; not doubting but that Champe must deliver himself up, as he would be closed between himself and his sergeant. Champe did not forget the short cut, and would have taken it himself, but he knew it was the usual route of our parties when returning in the day from the neighborhood of the enemy, properly preferring the woods to the road. He consequently avoided it; and persuaded that Middleton would avail himself of it, wisely resolved to relinquish his intention of getting to Paulus Hook, and to seek refuge from two British galleys, lying a few miles to the west of Bergen.

This was a station always occupied by one or two galleys, and which it was known now lay there. Entering the village of Bergen, Champe turned to his right, and disguising his change of course as much as he could by taking the beaten streets, turning as they turned, he passed through the village and took the road towards Elizabethtown Point. Middleton's sergeant gained the bridge, where he concealed himself, ready to pounce upon Champe when he came up; and Middleton, pursuing his course through Bergen, soon got also to the bridge, when, to his extreme mortification, he found that the sergeant had slipped through his fingers. Returning up the road, he inquired of the villagers of Bergen, whether a dragoon had been seen that morning preceding his party. He was answered in the affirmative, but could learn nothing satisfactorily as to the route he took. While engaged in inquiries himself, he spread his party through the village to strike the trail of Champe's horse, a resort always recurred to. Some of his dragoons hit it just as the sergeant, leaving the village, got in the road to the Point. Pursuit was renewed with vigor, and again Champe was descried. He, apprehending the event, had prepared himself for it, by lashing his valise (containing his clothes and orderly book) on his shoulders, and holding his drawn sword in his hand, having thrown away its scabbard. This he did to save what was indispensable to him, and to prevent any interruption to his swimming by the scabbard, should Middleton, as he presumed, when disappointed at the bridge, take the measures adopted by him. The pursuit was rapid and close, as the stop occasioned by the sergeant's preparations for swimming had brought Middleton within two or three hundred yards. As soon as Champe got abreast of the galleys, he dismounted, and running through the marsh to the river, plunged into it, calling upon the galleys for help. This was readily given; they fired upon our horse, and sent a boat to meet Champe, who was taken in and carried on board, and conveyed to New York with a letter from the captain of the galley, stating the past scene, all of which he had seen.

The horse with his equipments, the sergeant's cloak and sword scabbard, were recovered; the sword itself, being held by Champe until he plunged into the river, was lost, as Middleton found it necessary to retire without searching for it.

About three o'clock in the evening our party returned, and the soldiers, seeing the horse (well known to them) in our possession, made the air resound with exclamations that the scoundrel was killed.

Major Lee, called by this heart-rending annuncia

tion from his tent, saw the sergeant's horse led by one of Middleton's dragoons, and began to reproach himself with the blood of the high prized faithful and intrepid Champe. Stifling his agony, he advanced to meet Middleton, and became somewhat relieved as soon as he got near enough to discern the countenance of his officer and party. There was evidence in their looks of disappointment, and he was quickly relieved by Middleton's information that the sergeant had effected his escape with the loss of his horse, and narrated the particulars just recited.

Lee's joy was now as full as, the moment before, his torture had been excruciating. Never was a happier conclusion. The sergeant escaped unhurt, carrying with him to the enemy undeniable testimony of the sincerity of his desertion,-cancelling every apprehension before entertained, lest the enemy might suspect him of being what he really

was.

Major Lee imparted to the commander-in-chief the occurrence, who was sensibly affected by the hair-breadth escape of Champe, and anticipated with pleasure the good effect sure to follow the enemy's knowledge of its manner.

On the fourth day after Champe's departure, Lee received a letter from him, written the day before in a disguised hand, without any signature, and stating what had passed after he got on board the galley, where he was kindly received.

Af

He was carried to the commandant of New York as soon as he arrived, and presented the letter addressed to this officer from the captain of the galley. Being asked as to what corps he belonged, and a few other common questions, he was sent under care of an orderly sergeant to the adjutant-general, who, finding that he was sergeant-major of the legion horse, heretofore remarkable for their fidelity, he began to interrogate him. He was told by Champe, that such was the spirit of defection which prevailed among the American troops in consequence of Arnold's example, that he had no doubt, if the temper was properly cherished, Washington's ranks would not only be greatly thinned, but that some of his best corps would leave him. To this conclusion, the sergeant said, he was led by his own observations, and especially by his knowledge of the discontents which agitated the corps to which he had belonged. His size, place of birth, his form, countenance, color of his hair, the corps in which he had served, with other remarks, in conformity to the British usage, was noted in a large folio book. ter this was finished, he was sent to the commanderin-chief, in charge of one of the staff, with a letter from the adjutant-general. Sir Henry Clinton treated him very kindly, and detained him more than one hour, asking him many questions, all leading, first to know to what extent this spirit of defection might be pushed by proper incitements,what the most operating incitements,-whether any general officers were suspected by Washington as concerned in Arnold's conspiracy, or any other officers of note;-who they were, and whether the troops approved or censured Washington's suspicions;-whether his popularity in the army was sinking, or continued stationary. What was major André's situation,-whether any change had taken place in the manner of his confinement,-what was the current opinion of his probable fate,-and whether it was thought Washington would treat him as a spy. To these various interrogations, some of which were perplexing, Champe answered warily; exciting, nevertheless, hopes that the adoption of proper measures to encourage desertion (of which he could not pretend to form an opinion) would certainly bring off hundreds of the American soldiers, in

cluding some of the best troops, horse as well as foot. Respecting the fate of André, he said he was ignorant, though there appeared to be a general wish in the army that his life should not be taken; and that he believed it would depend more upon the disposition of Congress, than on the will of Washington.

After this long conversation ended, sir Henry presented Champe with a couple of guineas, and recommended him to wait upon general Arnold, who was engaged in raising an American legion in the service of his majesty. He directed one of his aids to write to Arnold by Champe, stating who he was, and what he had said about the disposition in the army to follow his example; which very soon done, it was given to the orderly attending on Champe to be presented with the deserter to general Arnold. Arnold expressed much satisfaction on hearing from Champe the manner of his escape, and the effect of Arnold's example; and concluded his numerous inquiries by assigning quarters to the sergeant,— the same as were occupied by his recruiting sergeants.

He also proposed to Champe to join his legion, telling him he would give to him the same station he had held in the rebel service, and promising further advancement when merited. Expressing his wish to retire from war, and his conviction of the certainty of his being hung if ever taken by the rebels, he begged to be excused from enlistment; assuring the general, that should he change his mind, he would certainly accept his offer. Retiring to the assigned quarters, Champe now turned his attention to the delivery of his letters, which he could not effect until the next night, and then only to one of the two incognita to whom he was recom. mended. This man received the sergeant with extreme attention, and having read the letter, assured Champe that he might rely on his faithful co-operation in doing everything in his power consistent with his safety, to guard which required the utmost prudence and circumspection. The sole object in which the aid of this individual was required. regarded the general and others of our army, implicat ed in the information sent to Washington by him. To this object Champe urged his attention; assuring him of the solicitude it had excited, and telling him that its speedy investigation had induced the general to send him into New York. Promising to enter upon it with zeal, and engaging to send out Champe's letters to major Lee, he fixed the time and place for their next meeting, when they separated.

Lee made known to the general what had been transmitted to him by Champe, and received in answer directions to press Champe to the expeditious conclusion of his mission; as the fate of André would be soon decided, when little or no delay could be admitted in executing whatever sentence the court might decree. The same messenger who brought Champe's letter, returned with the ordered communication. Five days had nearly elapsed after reaching New York, before Champe saw the confidant to whom only the attempt against Arnold was to be entrusted. This person entered with promp titude into the design, promising his cordial assistance. To procure a proper associate to Champe was the first object, and this he promised to do with all possible despatch. Furnishing a conveyance to Lee, we again heard from Champe, who stated what I have related, with the additional intelligence that he had that morning (the last of September) been appointed one of Arnold's recruiting sergeants, having enlisted the day before with Arnold; and that he was induced to take this afflicting step, for the purpose of securing uninterrupted ingress and egress

to the house which the general occupied; it being indispensable to a speedy conclusion of the difficult enterprise which the information he had just received had so forcibly urged. He added, that the difficulties in his way were numerous and stubborn, and that his prospect of success was by no means cheering. With respect to the additional treason, he asserted that he had every reason to believe that it was groundless; that the report took its rise in the enemy's camp, and that he hoped soon to clear up that matter satisfactorily. The pleasure which the last part of this communication afforded, was damped by the tidings it imparted respecting Arnold, as on his speedy delivery depended Andre's relief. The interposition of sir Henry Clinton, who was extremely anxious to save his much loved aid-de-camp, still continued; and it was expecte 1 the examination of witnesses and the defence of the prisoner, would protract the decision of the court of inquiry, now assembled, and give sufficient time for the consummation of the project committed to Champe. A complete disappointment took place from a quarter unforeseen and unexpected. The honorable and accomplished André, knowing his guilt, disdained defence, and prevented the examination of witnesses by confessing the character in which he stood. On the next day (the 2d of October) the court again assembled; when every doubt that could possibly arise in the case having been removed by the previous confession, André was declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer accordingly.

The sentence was executed on the subsequent day in the usual form, the commander-in-chief deeming it improper to interpose any delay. In this decision he was warranted by the very unpromising intelligence received from Champe,-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 condemned.

Neither Congress nor the nation could have been with propriety informed of the cause of the delay, and without such information it must have excited in both alarm and suspicion. André himself could not have been entrusted with the secret, and would consequently have attributed the unlooked-for event to the expostulation 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 upon a possible but improbable contingency. The fate of André, hastened by himself, deprived the enterprise committed to Champe of a feature which had been highly prized by its projector, and which had very much engaged the heart of the individual chosen to execute it.

Washington ordered major Lee to communicate what had passed to the sergeant, with directions to encourage him to prosecute with unrelaxed vigor the remaining objects of his instructions, but to intermit haste in the execution only as far as was compatible with final success.

This was accordingly done by the first opportu nity, in the manner directed. Champe deplored the sad necessity which occurred, and candidly confessed that the hope of enabling Washington to save the life of André (who had been the subject of universal commiseration in the American camp) greatly contributed to remove the serious difficulties which opposed his acceding to the proposition when first propounded. Some documents accompanied this communication, tending to prove the innocence of the accused general; they were completely satisfactory, and did credit to the discrimination, zeal and diligence of the sergeant. Lee inclosed them immediately to the commander-in-chief, who was pleased to

express the satisfaction he derived from the information, and to order the major to wait upon him the next day; when the whole subject was re-examined; and the distrust heretofore entertained of the accused was for ever dismissed. Nothing now remained to be done, but the seizure and safe delivery of Arnold. To this object Champe gave his undivided attention: and on the 19th October major Lee received from him a very particular account of the progress he had made, with the outlines of his plan. This was, without delay, submitted to Washington; with a request for a few additional guineas. The general's letter, written on the same day (20th October), evinces his attention to the minutiae of business, as well as his immutable determination to possess Arnold alive, or not at all. This was his original injunction, which he never omitted to enforce upon every proper occasion.

Major Lee had an opportunity in the course of the week of writing to Champe, when he told him that the rewards which he had promised to his associates would be certainly paid on the delivery of Arnold; and in the meantime, small sums of money would be furnished for casual expenses, it being deemed improper that he should appear with much, lest it might lead to suspicion and detection. That five guineas were now sent, and that more would follow when absolutely necessary.

Ten days elapsed before Champe brought his measures to conclusion, when Lee received from him his final communication, appointing the third subsequent night for a party of dragoons to meet him at Hoboken, when he hoped to deliver Arnold to the officer. Champe had, from his enlistment into the American legion (Arnold's corps), every opportunity he could wish, to attend to the habits of the general. He discovered that it was his custom to return home about twelve every night, and that previous to going to bed he always visited the garden. During this visit the conspirators were to seize him, and being prepared with a gag, intended to have applied the same instantly.

Adjoining the house in which Arnold resided, and in which it was designed to seize and gag him, Champe had taken off several of the palings and replaced them, so that with care and without noise he could readily open his way to the adjoining alley. Into this alley he meant to have conveyed his prisoner, aided by his companion, one of two associates who had been introduced by the friend to whom Champe had been originally made known by letter from the commander-in-chief, and with whose aid and counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other associate was with the boat prepared at one of the wharves on the Hudson river, to receive the party.

Champe and his friend intended to have placed themselves each under Arnold's shoulder, and to have thus borne him through the most unfrequented alleys and streets to the boat; representing Arnold, in case of being questioned, as a drunken soldier whom they were conveying to the guard-house.

When arrived at the boat the difficulties would be all surmounted, there being no danger nor obstacle in passing to the Jersey shore. These particulars, as soon as known to Lee, were communicated to the commander-in-chief, who was highly gratified with the much desired intelligence. He directed major Lee to meet Champe, and to take care that Arnold should not be hurt. The day arrived, and Lee with a party of dragoons left camp late in the evening, with three led accoutred horses; one for Arnold, one for the sergeant, and the third for his associate, never doubting the success of the enterprise, from the tenor of the last received communication. The