Perhaps as they parted no two men held more opposite ideas of danger than Smith and Major André. The very name “Cow Boy” struck terror in the heart of Smith, for they would have robbed him of all he possessed and then discovering that he was a nephew of William Livingston would probably have held him for ransom; but for André the Cow Boys had no terror. They were under control of James DeLancey and it would only be necessary to convince them that he was a British officer and offer to reward them for their assistance and they would conduct him with speed and in safety to headquarters. It was not surprising therefore that as soon as Smith was out of sight he turned from the White Plains road and started down the other road towards Tarrytown and the Cow Boys that Smith and Captain Boyd had impressed him made that road impassable as it was almost certain they would be encountered there.
THE CAPTURE OF MAJOR ANDRÉ
Few persons realize how closely identified this event is with the history of our country. Col. Trumbull is recorded as saying: “But for that event the Declaration of Independence might have proved abortive, and the blood of so many of our countrymen shed in vain.”
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John Paulding will now take up the narrative, in the words he used the day after the execution of Major André in explaining the matter to a board of officers at the request of General Washington. Paulding says:
“Myself, Isaac Van Weart and David Williams, were lying by the side of the road, about a half a mile above Tarry Town, and about fifteen miles from King’s-bridge, on Saturday morning, between nine and ten o’clock, the twenty third of September last (1780). We had lain there about an hour and a half, as near as I can recollect, and saw several persons we were acquainted with, whom we let pass. Presently, one of the young men who was with me said, ‘There comes a gentleman-like looking man, who appears to be well dressed, and has boots on, who you had better step out and stop if you don’t know him.’ On that I got up and presented my firelock at the breast of the person, and I told him to stand; and then I asked him which way he was going. Says he, ‘Gentlemen, I hope you belong to our party.’ I asked him ‘What Party?’ He said, ‘The lower party.’ Upon that I told him I did. Then he said, ‘I am a British officer out of the country, on particular business, and I hope you won’t detain me a minute!’ and to show that he was a British officer, he pulled out his watch; upon which I told him to dismount. Upon that, he said, ‘My God, I must do anything to get “along”;’ seemed to make a kind of a laugh of it, and pulled out General Arnold’s pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all guards to the White Plains, and further. Upon that he dismounted, and says he, ‘Gentlemen you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves in trouble, for, by your stopping of me you will detain the General’s business;’ and he said he was to go to Dobb’s Ferry, to meet a person there, on the General’s business. Upon that I told him I hoped he would not be offended, and I told him we did not mean to take anything from him; and told him there were many bad people going along the road, and I did not know but perhaps he might be one; and I asked him if he had any letters about him. He made answer, ‘No.’ Upon that, myself, or one of my comrades, though I think myself, told him to pull off his clothes, which he did. We searched his clothes, but could find nothing; and I told him to pull off his boots; he rather seemed backward of pulling them off; however, he pulled off one of them, and I felt at his foot, where I felt the papers in his stocking under his foot; then I told him to pull off the other boot, and when the other boot was off, I found other papers in his stocking, under his foot. Then I looked on the back of the papers, and I said to the young fellows who were with me, ‘This is a spy.’ One of the young fellows who were with me asked him if he would give up his horse, saddle, and bridle, and watch, and a hundred guineas, if he would let him go. He made answer, ‘Yes, and whatever sum of money you will mention, or quantity of dry goods.’ And then I made answer, ‘No, by God, if you would give us ten thousand guineas, you should not stir a step.’ One of the young fellows winked at me, who had a mind to find out a little more, and I made answer to the lads who were with me to come along, for I would have nothing more to say to him, and we asked him some questions as we were going along the road, and he begged we would ask him none till he came to some officers, and then he would reveal the whole. We carried him to Colonel Jameson and there he took him into his custody,[48] and I have not seen him from that time until I saw him the other day.” Paulding added that had he pulled out General Arnold’s pass before he said he was a British officer he would have let him go.
David Williams’ story, as recorded on October 4th, 1780, confirmed Paulding’s, and it would be a repetition to print it; but one statement in it needs emphasizing. Williams said: “Mr. Paulding looked at the contents and said he was a spy; upon which we made him pull off his other boot, and there we found three more papers at the bottom of his foot, within his stocking; upon which we made him dress himself, and I asked him what he would give us to let him go; he said he would give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one hundred guineas, upon which he said, ‘Yes;’ and he told us he would direct it to any place even if it was to that very spot, so that we could get it. I asked him whether he would not give us more; he said he would give us any quantity of dry goods or any sum of money, and bring it to any place that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it; upon which Mr. Paulding answered ‘No, by God, if you would give us ten thousand guineas you shall not stir one step.’”[49]
There was a sequel to the capture of Major André by Paulding and his friends that prejudiced Major Tallmadge to such an extent that when a petition was presented to Congress in 1817 to increase their reward he created a sensation by opposing it. It appears either the taste of the world’s applause or the earnest entreaties of the much abused inhabitants of the neutral ground induced Paulding and others to undertake another expedition against the “Cow Boys,” this time aimed at their chief. Without consulting Major Tallmadge these young men took it upon themselves to attempt the capture of James DeLancey, whose home was in Westchester County. Here lived his mother and her family. In an earlier raid they had met with such cruel treatment at the hands of a band of outlaws that both sides had been appealed to and in all probability the property was under the protection of Major Tallmadge as well as Oliver DeLancey at the time. Nevertheless Paulding and his friends were so anxious to punish James DeLancey, who had command of the “Cow Boys,” that with all the force they could get together they secretly marched to his home on January 25th, 1783, hoping to capture him there. Being disappointed in this they ransacked the house and took therefrom all they could carry away that was of any value. The alarm was given and the next day they were overtaken and seven of them captured. One was killed and John Paulding was among the prisoners taken to the provost in New York and consigned to the care of the notorious William Cunningham. A sister of James DeLancey was Nancy, who with her mother Mrs. Elizabeth DeLancey, a daughter of Cadwalader Colden, occupied the Westchester County estate at that time. Among the friends and frequent visitors were the Floyds, in particular Elizabeth Floyd who married John Peter DeLancey and became the mother of Mrs. James Fenimore Cooper, and her cousin Mary Floyd, daughter of William Floyd, signer of the Declaration of Independence, who a few months later became the wife of Major Tallmadge.
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