Upon this statement Captain Boyd seemed more anxious than ever, magnified the perils to which they would be exposed by travelling in the night, and recommended anew that they should turn back to one Andreas Miller's, who lived but a little way off, and at whose house they might lodge. Smith's courage was somewhat damped by these representations, and he went and told the tale to André, and counselled with him, as to the steps they ought to take. It is probable, also, that he had fears of exciting suspicion, if he persevered in resisting the captain's zeal expressed so earnestly in their behalf. André, as it may well be imagined, not being very easy in his present situation, was for going on at all events. When Smith found his fears unheeded and his eloquence unavailing, he called in the aid of Captain Boyd, and inquired of him which was the safest road to White Plains. Boyd considered both roads perilous, but believed the one through North Castle the least so, for the Lower Party, or Cow-boys, infested the Tarrytown road, and had lately done mischief in that quarter. He used various arguments to dissuade them from going farther that night, to which Smith listened with open ears, and he resolved, against the will of André, to trespass on the hospitality of Andreas Miller.
They met with a welcome reception, but, coming at a late hour to an humble dwelling, their accommodations were narrow, and the two travelers were obliged to sleep in the same bed. According to Smith's account, it was a weary and restless night to his companion. The burden on his thoughts was not of a kind to lull them to repose; and the place of his retreat, so near the watchful Captain Boyd and his guards, was hardly such as would impress upon him a conviction of perfect security. At the first dawn of light he roused himself from his troubled slumbers, waked the servant, and ordered the horses to be prepared for an early departure.
Having solicited their host in vain to receive a compensation for the civilities he had rendered, they mounted and took the road leading to Pine's Bridge. The countenance of André brightened when he was fairly beyond the reach of the patrolling party, and, as he thought, had left behind him the principal difficulties in his route. His cheerfulness revived, and he conversed in the most animated and agreeable strain upon a great variety of topics. Smith professes to have been astonished at the sudden and extraordinary change which appeared in him, from a gloomy taciturnity to an exuberant flow of spirits, pleasantry, and gay discourse. He talked upon poetry, the arts, and literature, lamented the war, and hoped for a speedy peace. In this manner they passed along, without being accosted by any person, till they came within two miles and a half of Pine's Bridge.
At this place Smith had determined to end his journey in the direction towards White Plains. The Cow-boys, whom he seemed anxious to avoid, had recently been above the Bridge; and the territory below was considered their appropriate domain. The travellers partook of a frugal breakfast together at the house of a good Dutch woman, who had been plundered by the marauders, but who was yet enabled to set before them a repast of hasty-pudding and milk. This being despatched, Smith divided his small stock of paper money with André, took a final leave, and with his servant hastened back to Peekskill, and the same evening to Fishkill, where he had left his family four days before at the house of his brother-in-law. On his way he took the road leading by Robinson's House, where he called on General Arnold and dined. He gave an account of André's progress, and mentioned the place where he left him, with which Arnold appeared well pleased. It is to be understood, however, that Smith had not at this time, as he always affirmed, any knowledge of André's true character, and that he supposed his name to be John Anderson.
The Cow-boys were a set of people, mostly if not wholly refugees, belonging to the British side, and engaged in plundering cattle near the lines and driving them to New York. The name indicates their vocation. There was another description of banditti, called Skinners, who lived for the most part within the American lines, and professed attachment to the American cause; but in reality they were more unprincipled, perfidious, and inhuman, than the Cow-boys themselves; for these latter exhibited some symptoms of fellow-feeling for their friends, whereas the Skinners committed their depredations equally upon friends and foes.
By a law of the State of New York, every person refusing to take an oath of fidelity to the State was considered as forfeiting his property. The large territory between the American and British lines, extending nearly thirty miles from north to south, and embracing Westchester county, was populous and highly cultivated. A person living within that space, who took the oath of fidelity, was sure to be plundered by the Cowboys; and if he did not take it, the Skinners would come down upon him, call him a Tory, and seize his property as confiscated by the State. Thus the execution of the laws was assumed by robbers, and the innocent and guilty were involved in a common ruin.
It is true, the civil authority endeavored to guard against these outrages, as far as it could, by legislative enactments and executive proclamations; but, from the nature of the case, this formidable conspiracy against the rights and claims of humanity could be crushed only by a military arm. The detachments of Continental troops and militia, stationed near the lines, did something to lessen the evil; yet they were not adequate to its suppression, and frequently this force was so feeble as not to afford any barrier to the inroads of the banditti. The Skinners and Cow-boys often leagued together. The former would sell their plunder to the latter, taking in exchange contraband articles brought from New York. It was not uncommon for the farce of a skirmish to be acted near the American lines, in which the Skinners never failed to come off victorious; and then they would go boldly to the interior with their booty, pretending it had been captured from the enemy, while attempting to smuggle it across the lines.
Such was the social condition of that part of the country, through which André was now to pass alone, for nearly thirty miles, before he could be perfectly secure from danger; for, although every step diminished the chances of untoward accidents, yet there was no absolute safety till he was beyond the limits of this ill-famed neutral ground.
When he and Smith separated, it seems to have been understood, that André would pursue the route through White Plains, and thence to New York; but after crossing Pine's Bridge, he changed his mind, turned off towards Hudson's River, and took what was called the Tarrytown road. He was probably induced to this step by the remarks he had heard the evening before from Captain Boyd, who said the Lower Party had been far up the Tarrytown road, and it was dangerous to proceed that way. As the Lower Party belonged to the British, and André would of course be safe in their hands, it was natural for him to infer, that he should be among friends sooner in that direction than in the other.
A law of the State of New York authorized any person to seize and convert to his own use all cattle or beef, that should be driven or removed from the country in the direction of the city beyond a certain line in Westchester county. By military custom, also, the personal effects of prisoners, taken by small parties, were assigned to the captors as a prize.