Part 9

After that Morgan was assigned to his position with one of the English regiments. He was a hale fellow well met, and it did not take him long to win their confidence. The circumstances under which he had come to the British army gave him considerable latitude and he was able to go and come pretty much as he pleased. He talked freely with the officers and they, in turn, regarding him as a zealous convert to their cause, did not hesitate to furnish him with the kind of information which he most desired. Once or twice after that he was called before Cornwallis and cross-questioned concerning the plans of the American army. He stood this ordeal with amazing self-possession, and by his native shrewdness managed to obtain much more information than he gave, the difference being that his news was the product of his imagination, while the information he obtained was accurate and clearly outlined the movement of the forces under Cornwallis.

Morgan became the special friend of four of the men in his regiment. After some weeks they began to tell him of their troubles. They looked upon him as a superior and indicated by their manner a desire to follow his advice. Each soldier was allowed a certain amount of grog each day, and he further increased their regard for him by dividing his liquor with them. Presently they began to complain of the privations to which they had been subjected in the British camp. He listened with ready sympathy and when he felt that the time was ripe assured them privately that the American army was at the present time enjoying a plentiful supply of provisions. He also assured them that the victory of the American cause was as certain as that the sun would rise in the morning. Finally, he proposed that they should all desert and go over to the American army. The Englishmen were familiar with the passwords and numbered the sentries among their personal friends. This helped to make Morgan’s return to his own army comparatively easy.

Their plans were carefully made and shortly before midnight the five men, headed by Morgan, left the British camp. They were halted by a sentinel, who told them that they would not be permitted to leave the British lines without a passport.

“We are only on a lark,” Morgan assured him, “and if you will let us go by we will promise to return before daylight.”

“But if I do, it will get me into trouble,” insisted the man.

“Not at all,” was the ready retort. “You let us go and we will see that no harm comes to you.”

As a further proof of friendship the American produced the canteen which he had brought with him and gave the sentinel a liberal draught of the rum. They remained talking with him for a few minutes and then treated him to a second drink. After that he was in the humor to pass the entire regiment without either explanations or passports.

The experience which they had with this first man was repeated with two other sentinels, and eventually they found themselves outside of the British lines and headed toward the American camp.

It was an unpleasant journey. They had to make their way through swampy ground and several times found themselves up to their ankles in mud and water. The British deserters were very much depressed and at one stage of the trip would have gladly returned to their own camp, but Morgan had gone too far to permit anything of that kind. He continued to furnish them with liquor and in this way kept their courage buoyed up to the sticking point. Finally, just before daylight, they found themselves within sight of the American lines. The sun was shining when Morgan reached the American camp with the four British deserters trailing at his heels. He was received with great delight by his fellow patriots and almost immediately escorted to the headquarters of General Lafayette. The Marquis hastened to meet him and eagerly clapped him on the back.

“My friend,” he said, “I am delighted to see you again—to see you in the flesh.”

“I have carried out your instructions,” said Morgan, modestly.

“So I presume. But who is it you have with you?”

“These are four British soldiers who have decided to give themselves to the cause of liberty.”

The General directed that the recruits be fed and clothed and enlisted in the regiment to which Morgan was attached. After that he made Morgan sit down and tell the story of his stay in the camp of Cornwallis. This he was able to do with intelligence and in great detail. Lafayette thus obtained the information which he desired. He praised his messenger highly and told him that he would commend him to the good offices of General Washington. In the meantime he proposed to promote him to the rank of corporal, with the promise of still further promotion in the near future. But the volunteer spy shook his head.

“I thank you for your goodness. I appreciate it greatly, but I do not desire to go above the rank of an ordinary private. I have ability for a common soldier, but should I be promoted, my ability may not be equal to the occasion, and I would thus lose my character.”

General Lafayette laughed heartily at this unusual display of modesty, but assured Morgan that his services would not be forgotten and that at the proper time he would be rewarded for his sacrifice and his heroism.

Lafayette was now in a position to act with intelligence. The information that had been brought to him by his spy fortunately did not make it necessary for him to change his plan of campaign. He was in communication with other Continental officers and kept constantly informed of the progress of the campaign. He discovered many other things; that Clinton, at the head of the British forces in New York, was under the impression that Washington was getting ready to attack him. Washington encouraged him to think so. In order that the British general should not be disillusioned, the American continued to make every possible preparation for moving against New York. So cleverly was this ruse carried on that the members of Washington’s own army supposed that he was really getting ready to attack Clinton. When at length everything was just as he wished it, Washington suddenly broke camp and conducted his entire force with all possible speed across the country to the head of Chesapeake Bay and thus by vessels to Yorktown. It was truly a critical time in the Revolutionary War. While Washington was continuing his southern movement Lafayette and his army closed in on the other side. The British realized that they were gradually becoming the victims of a vast enveloping movement. Cornwallis put his spy glass to his eye and peered over the walls of his fortified town. On one side he beheld the French fleet, on the other side Washington’s troops, and on still another, Lafayette’s army. The Americans, 16,000 strong, were gradually but surely coming closer and closer. Cornwallis held out with great bravery for three weeks, but the constant rain of shells and hot shot made his position almost impossible. Finally, seeing that it was useless to struggle against fate, he surrendered. His army marched out on the 19th of October, 1781, to the tune of “The World’s Upside Down,” and it was—at least to the British. They were dazed and could not understand how such a powerful army and such a great empire should fall victims to what seemed to be a handful of untrained farmers. But in spite of their feeling it was over, and they were the vanquished.

The fall of Yorktown practically ended the war of the Revolution. Washington had conquered. Lafayette’s confidence in the struggling colonists was fully vindicated and his great respect for George Washington increased. As has been said, it was the victory of a great and good man in a great and good cause.

The news of the surrender was sent post-haste to London. The excited messenger who announced the sad tidings to Lord North, the Prime Minister of the British Government, afterwards said that that functionary threw up his arms as though he had received a shot and cried dramatically:

“It is all over!”

And so it was; and in the victory at Yorktown none of the Continental troops fought more bravely or showed to greater advantage than those who served under the leadership of Lafayette. Among the privates in the New Jersey Brigade none fought with greater courage than Charles Morgan, who had served as the personal spy of the great Frenchman in the camp of Cornwallis. But in his case virtue and courage had to be their own reward. Many of the soldiers who deserved great honor were compelled to go unrewarded, and Charles Morgan was apparently one of these, for after his exploit, and the ending of the war, his name does not appear in any of the records of that great event. Like many other deserving men, he was lost in the mists of obscurity.

XI

THE MYSTERIOUS AND ROMANTIC CASE OF GENERAL NAPPER TANDY

During the Napoleonic wars scores of military spies were sent from England and France, and most of them performed their work so well that posterity has not even been given the benefit of their names. Perhaps the most industrious of these was a man who was simply known as “O.” He was constantly in communication with the English Government and he kept Pitt, the English Prime Minister, informed of the movements of certain Irishmen who had left their own country to enlist under the banner of Napoleon.

One of the most conspicuous of these was General Napper Tandy, who urged upon the Man of Destiny the advisability of attacking England by making a descent upon the coast of Ireland. For more than a half-century the greatest mystery hovered about the name and the identity of General Napper Tandy. But it was finally cleared up through the persistence and the painstaking efforts of William J. Fitzpatrick, the Irish historian, but only after he had secured the permission of the English Government to make an examination of the secret archives of Dublin Castle.

As a result of that, we now know that Tandy was an adventurous soul who was willing to fight at the drop of a hat. He is described in Government reports as an “arch rebel,” and it is certain that he took part in various Irish uprisings against the English Government. He went over to France about 1796 and identified himself with Napoleon. He was a brave man, with much knowledge of military strategy and undoubtedly made an impression upon one who was regarded as the greatest military strategist of his day.

That Napoleon thought well of the proposed invasion of Ireland is proven by his negotiations with Thomas Addis Emmet. The correspondence of the great Corsican makes that fact clear. But Emmet accused him of coldness and indecision on the Irish program, because, instead of going to Ireland in 1798, he changed his plans and went to Egypt.

However, there was never any doubt about the plans of General Tandy, and the manner in which he carried them out is part of the secret history of the times. A meeting to arrange the details was held in Paris, and was attended by Messrs. Blackwell, Morres, Tandy and Corbett. Unfortunately for them, there was another person present, and that was the English spy who became known later from the fact that he signed all of his communications to the English Government with the letter “O.”

Mr. Fitzpatrick, after the most exhaustive researches, is convinced that this spy was a man named Orr, who had been on Pitt’s payroll for a long time. He had been a thorn in the side of Napoleon for years, and even before the meeting which Tandy held in Paris had sent a note to his chief in which he said:

“The grand object of the French is, as they term it themselves, London. _Delanda Carthago_ is their particular end; once in England, they think they would speedily indemnify themselves for all their expenses and recruit their ruined finances.”

It is certain that “O” was not only present at the meeting to arrange for the expedition into Ireland, but that he made suggestions regarding the details of that historic trip. It is interesting to know that before the ship set sail full particulars of it had been sent by “O” to his English employers. He even goes so far as to make sport of the finances of the French nation at that time.

“Three generals are to go out on the little expedition,” he writes, “and all the money they can muster between them is thirty louis d’or. One of them, to my certain knowledge, has but five guineas in all.”

Tandy sailed from Dunkirk in the French ship _Anacreon_, which was well stocked with a store of ordnance, ammunition, saddles and accouterments. He was accompanied by a large staff including Corbett and Blackwell. One of his aides-de-camp was Orr, the spy, who kept at his elbow constantly, and learned all of his most secret plans and hopes. Before the gallant ship raised anchor there was a conference in the cabin concerning the most desirable landing place. Maps of Ireland were consulted, and it was finally decided that the safest, if not the most secluded stretch of country, was along the coast of Donegal. General Napper Tandy was in fine fettle. He wore a most gorgeous uniform with gold lace and brass buttons, and altogether made an impressive appearance. Like many brave men, he was a dandy in dress and manner, and when not fighting, devoted much time to his toilet. The journey to Ireland was comparatively uneventful, but all of those aboard the _Anacreon_ were glad to see the shores of the Green Isle.

Tandy was very much concerned regarding another expedition which had set sail for Ireland about a week before the departure of his own party. This was in charge of General Humbert, and was expected to clear the way for the Tandy invasion. As the ship approached the shore General Tandy hoisted a green flag at the masthead of the _Anacreon_. It had on it the words, “Erin go Bragh,” and was intended as a signal to the Irishmen who were to join in an attack on the British. He also had with him for distribution, printed copies of a proclamation addressed to the people of Ireland. It was headed “Liberty or Death,” and contained a drawing of the Irish harp and the cap of liberty, and began with the words: “Horrid crimes have been perpetrated in your country, your friends have fallen a sacrifice to their devotion to your cause, and their shadows are around you and call for vengeance.” Little did Tandy imagine that copies of these proclamations were already in the hands of the British, and that the spy who had forwarded them was then on the ship with him. If Orr felt any apprehension he did not show it in his manner, yet he must have known that if discovered he would have been hanged to the mast arm of the vessel.

Tandy landed in company with General Ray, a French soldier who had seen service with Napoleon. In a short time they were surrounded by a large number of people who looked upon the invaders with amazement and alarm. To them General Ray made a grandiloquent speech, in the course of which he said:

“The soldiers of the Great Nation have landed on your coast well supplied with arms and ammunition of all kinds, and with artillery worked by those who have spread terror amongst the ranks of the best troops in Europe, headed by French officers; they come to break your fetters and restore you to the blessings of liberty. General Napper Tandy is at their head; he has sworn to lead them on to victory or die. Brave Irishmen! The friends of liberty have left their native soil to assist you in reconquering your rights; they will brave the dangers, and glory at the sublime idea of cementing your happiness with their blood.”

General Tandy made his headquarters with Mr. Foster, who lived near the coast of Donegal, and after partaking of refreshments he said to that gentleman:

“What news have you got to give me regarding the expedition that landed last week?”

“Not very good—for you at least,” said Foster, who was an ardent Royalist. “Part of the French troops landed at Killala, and after winning the battle of Castlebar have been finally compelled to capitulate to Lord Cornwallis.”

“I cannot believe it,” exclaimed Tandy.

“It is true,” was the grim reply, “whether you believe it or not.”

In order to assure himself of the truthfulness of the intelligence, General Tandy took forcible possession of the Rutland postoffice, which was kept by Mr. Foster’s sister. He opened the newspapers, and to his dismay found that all he had been told was perfectly correct. He realized that the usefulness of his own expedition was destroyed. Indeed, he learned further that a large body of British troops was already on its way to Rutland to capture the latest invaders. Under the circumstances the only thing left for him to do was to retire with as little loss as possible.

The thoughtfulness of this soldier of fortune was illustrated by the fact that he wrote an official letter, signed and sealed, exonerating Foster from blame for not having dispatched his mail bags. He testified that, being in temporary want of accommodation, he was obliged to put Citizen Foster under requisition, and to place sentinels around the island.

It is also a curious fact that he and his officers paid for everything they took, including two pigs and a cow. General Ray, when leaving, removed a gold ring from his finger and presented it to Mrs. Foster as a token of fraternity. Finally, this arch rebel, after paying all of his obligations, discharged a cannon as a farewell note to the people of Donegal.

The _Anacreon_ had scarcely started on her way when Foster dispatched two messengers to the proper authorities in the hope that part of the British fleet might intercept the invaders. This was not so easy as it looked, because Tandy had already told Foster that they had met several English cruisers on their way to Ireland and had outsailed them all. The _Anacreon_ proved to be equally successful on its return voyage, capturing two English ships near the Orkneys after a stiff engagement, and finally landing Tandy and his associates in Norway. They landed at Bergen, and after suffering many trials and tribulations, sought to reach France by land. The cold became so intense that people were found frozen to death at the gate of Hamburg. Weary and footsore, Tandy arrived there at twilight on November 22, 1798.

There he was met by a man named Turner who was really a spy associated with Orr, but seeming to recognize in him a fellow Irishman, Tandy at once gave him his confidence and eagerly accepted an invitation from him to take supper. It has been said, but with how much truth cannot be vouched for, that Turner was one of those who was compelled to fly from his native land on account of the “Wearing of the Green.” At all events there was a verse in the popular ballad which ran thus:

“I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand, And he said, ‘How’s poor old Ireland, and how does she stand, ‘’Tis a most distressful country for it’s plainly to be seen, They are hanging men and women for the “Wearing of the Green.”’”

Little did Tandy suspect that when he accepted this invitation to supper he was walking into a trap that had been set for him. Tandy and his fellow officers were lodged at an inn in Hamburg called the American Arms, and after finishing their meal they retired to their respective rooms. Tandy occupied himself in writing letters. He had many reports to make and explanations concerning the failure of his expedition. He stayed up nearly all night, and about five o’clock in the morning was startled by a loud tapping at his bedroom door. He opened it and an officer walked in followed by Sir James Crawford, British Minister at Hamburg. The officer turned to the Irishman and said:

“I would like to have a look at your passport.”

Tandy, although taken by surprise, was perfectly composed.

“If you will wait a moment,” he said, “I will get it for you.”

Turning around and going over to his trunk he lifted the lid very carefully and took out a pistol which he pointed at the soldier, exclaiming as he did so:

“This is my passport!”

The officer, who had the courage of his convictions, made a rush at him and succeeded in deflecting the aim of the pistol. The next moment the guards rushed in and secured Tandy. Before daylight he and his associates were handcuffed and confined in the local prison by order of Sir James Crawford.

A few hours after the arrest of the culprits Monsieur Maragan, the French resident, wrote to the Senate at Hamburg claiming Tandy and his colleagues as French citizens and threatening to leave the place unless they were released. The British minister opposed this demand very forcibly, and, needless to say, carried his point. The French chargé d’affaires noticed that Tandy was in very poor health and it is said that he offered a large sum to the officer of the guard to permit the Irishman’s escape. But the influence of the British minister was strong enough to overcome all obstacles from the French side of the house. The action of the Senate at Hamburg in giving Tandy and his colleagues over to the British created quite a sensation, and was the cause of a prolonged controversy.

That Tandy suffered dreadfully from his confinement is proven by many letters and papers that have since come to light. His sufferings in prison he said were so severe that life was a burden, and more than once he prayed to be led out on the ramparts and shot. John Philpot Curran, writing of his sufferings, says:

“He was confined in a dungeon little larger than a grave. He was loaded with irons; he was chained by an iron that communicated from his arm to his leg and that was so short as to grind into his flesh. Food was cut into shapeless lumps and flung to him by his keepers as he lay on the ground, as if he had been a beast; he had no bed to lie on, not even straw to coil himself up on, if he could have slept.”

Corbett, who was one of the prisoners, gives details of the detention which are hardly less painful.

“What happened to me,” he writes, “would have naturally discouraged and prevented me from making any new attempts; nevertheless, I managed to correspond with my two companions in misfortune; and we all three stood so well with our guards, the greater number of whom we had gained, that we resolved to arm ourselves and place ourselves at their head to deliver Tandy, who was in another prison, and afterwards to repair to the house of the French ambassador. Our measures were so well taken that we hoped this time at least to recover our liberty in spite of the impediments which fortune might place in our way. But the same traitor who had formerly deranged my plan discovered all to the English minister Crawford, who immediately gave orders that our guard should be changed and even that those of the different posts of Hamburg should be doubled, which continued even to our departure. Such was the result of the last struggle we made to obtain our liberty at Hamburg.”

Finally at midnight on September 29, 1799, after ten months’ detention, Tandy and his companions were taken from prison and put on an English frigate. As they were leaving, Tandy said to the officer in charge:

“What right did you have to arrest us? You are surely not ignorant of the fact that we were French officers.”

The man in charge shrugged his shoulders.

“I merely fulfilled the orders of the minister from England.”

By this time France was venting its wrath unreservedly. It denounced the conduct of Hamburg to all states, allied and neutral. It compelled all French consular officers to quit the offending territory and demanded that every agent of Hamburg residing in France should leave in twenty-four hours. The Senate of Hamburg now expressed regret at the occurrence and wrote in this vein to the French authorities.

“Your letter, gentlemen,” replied Napoleon, “does not justify you. You have violated the laws of hospitality, a thing which never happened among the most savage hordes of the desert.”