stantly spread, and floated in the atmosphere. From these data, the conclusion. is drawn, that the place where the vapors were balanced must have been very near the surface of the earth. Reasoning from the premises thus set forth, Prof. Williams was of the opinion that such a large quantity of vapor, floating in the atmosphere, near the earth's surface, might be sufficient to produce all the phenomena that made the nineteenth of May, 1780, so memorable. Thus, the direction in which the darkness came on would be determined by the direction of the wind, and this was known to be from the south-west; the degree of the darkness would depend on the density, color, and situation of the clouds and vapor, and the manner in which they would transmit, reflect, refract, or absorb the rays of light; the extent of the darkness would be as great as the extent of the vapor; and the duration of it would continue until the gravity of the air became so altered that the vapors would change their situation, by an ascent or descent; -all of which particulars, it is claimed, agree with the observations that have been mentioned. Nor does the effect of the vapors, in darkening terrestrial objects, when they lay near the surface of the earth, appear to have been greater than it was in darkening the sun and moon, when their situation was higher in the atmosphere. It being thus evident that the atmosphere was, from some peculiar cause (perhaps great fires in distant woods) charged, in a high degree, with vapors, and that these vapors were of different densities and occupied different heights, the deduction is, that by this means the rays of light falling on them must have suffered a variety of refractions and reflections, and thereby become weakened, absorbed, or so reflected, as not to fall upon objects on the earth in the usual manner; and as the different vapors were adapted by their nature, situation, or density, to absorb or transmit the different kind of rays, so the colors of objects would appear to be affected by the mixture or prevalency of those rays which were transmitted through so uncommon a medium. This was the explanation suggested by Prof. Williams, though not to the exclusion of other theories. But there were not wanting those-and a large number they were too-who gave play, in their minds, to the most strange opinions concerning the cause of so marvelous an appearance. It was imagined by some persons, that an eclipse of the sun, produced of course by an interposition of the moon, was the cause of the darkness -others attributed it to a transit of Venus or Mercury upon the disc of the sunothers imputed it to a blazing star, which they thought came between the earth and the sun. So whimsical, indeed, were some of the opinions which possessed men's minds at this time, that even so bare a vagary as that a great mountain obstructed the rays of the sun's light during that day, obtained advocates! Whether they thought that a new mountain was created and placed between the earth and the sun, or that a mountain from this globe had taken flight and perched upon that great luminary, does not appear. That this darkness was not caused by an eclipse, is manifest by the various positions of the planetary bodies at that time, for the moon was more than one hundred and fifty degrees from the sun all that day, and, according to the accurate calculations made by the most celebrated astronomers, there could not, in the order of nature, be any transit of the planet Venus or Mercury upon the disc of the sun that year; nor could it be a blazing star-much less a mountain,-that darkened the atmosphere, for this would still leave unexplained the deep darkness of the following night. Nor would such excessive nocturnal darkness follow an eclipse of the sun; and as to the moon, she was at that time more than forty hours' motion past her opposition. One of the theories, looking to a solution of the mysterious occurrence, which found defenders, was as follows: The heat of the sun causes an ascent of numerous particles which consist of different qualities, such as aqueous, sulphurous, bituminous, salinous, etc.; hence the waters of the seas, rivers, and ponds; the fumes of burning volcanoes, caused by subterraneous veins of liquid fire; all the other kinds of smoke fat, combustibles, oily matter from various kinds of earth, the juice of trees, plants and herbs; salinous and nitrous particles from salt, snow water, and kindred sources; -these are exhaled into the regions of the air, where their positions are subject to various mutations or changes by reason of the motion and compression of the air, causing them to be sometimes rarefied and sometimes condensed. It was (according to this theory,) a vast collection of such particles that caused the day of darkness; that is, the particles, after being exhaled, were driven together by certain winds from opposite points of the compass, and condensed to such a degree by the weight of the earth's atmosphere, that they obstructed the appearance of the rays of the sun by day, and those of the moon by night. times as large as usual. The air, all this time, was of a dingy yellowish color. At half-past one o'clock, it was so dark as to necessitate the lighting of candles, in order to attend to domestic duties. At about three in the afternoon, the darkness became more dense, increasing in intensity until half-past three, when the wind breezed up from the southwest and brought on a slight fall of rain, accompanied with a profuse quantity of fine black particles, in appearance much like sulphur, both in smell and quality. A sheet of clean paper, held out in this rain, was rendered quite black wherever the drops fell upon it; but, when held near the fire, it turned to a yellow color, and, when burned, it fizzed on the paper, like wet powder. So black did these powdery particles turn everything upon which they fell, that even the river was covered with a black froth, which, when skimmed off the surface, resembled the lather of soap, with this difference, that it was more greasy, and its color as black as ink. At seven, in the evening, the air was more clear. This phenomenon was observed throughout a vast region of country; and, though various conjectures were indulged in, as to the cause of so extraordinary an occurrence, the same degree of mystery attaches to it as to that of 1780,— confounding the wisdom even of the most learned philosophers and men of science. Having thus presented the facts and circumstances pertaining to this notable day in the history of the New England or northern states, it may not be amiss to add, that a similar day of mysterious darkness occurred on October 21, 1716; the day was so dark, that people were forced to light candles to dine by,-a darkness which could not proceed from any eclipse, a solar eclipse having taken place on the fourth of that month. There was also a remarkable darkness at Detroit and vicinity, October 19, 1762, being almost total for the greater part of the day. It was dark at day-break, and this continued until nine o'clock, when it cleared up a little, and, for the space of about a quarter of an hour, the body of the sun was visible, it appearing as red as blood, and more than three shine, sky and verdure. It may easily be imagined, that, as the deep and mysterious darkness which covered the land on the memorable nineteenth of May filled all hearts with wonder-and multitudes with fear,-so, the return, at last, of that brightness and beauty characteristic of the month and of the season, brought gladness again to the faces of the young, and composure to the hearts of the aged; for never before did nature appear clothed in so charming an attire of sun IV. TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD.-1780. Darkest Page in American Revolutionary History.-Plot to Deliver West Point, the Gibraltar of America, Over to the British.-Movements of the Guilty Parties.-Discovery and Frustration of the Crime. -Major Andre, the British Spy, is Captured, and Swings from a Gibbet.-Escape of Arnold to the Enemy. Is Spurned and Isolated in England.-Arnold's Unquestioned Bravery.-Commended by General Washington.-Infamous Personal Transactions.-Reprimanded by his Chief.-Determines on Revenge.-Correspondence with the Foe.-Ingratiates Washington's Favor Again.-Obtains Command of West Point.-Midnight Conference with Andre.-Andre Seized while Returning-Astounding Evidence Against Him.-Attempts to Bribe His Captors.-Carried to American Head-Quarters.Arnold Apprised of the Event.-A Hurried Farewell to His Wife.-Quick Pursuit of the Traitor.He Reaches a British Man-of-War.-Washington's Exclamation at the News-His Call on Mrs. Arnold.-Andre's Trial and Conviction.-Arnold's Reward for His Crime.-His Unlamented Death. "Providence, which has so often and so remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested itself more conspicuously than in the timely discovery of Arnold's horrid intention to surrender the post and garrison of West Point to the enemy."-WASHINGTON. PRICE OF ARNOLD'S TREASON. ARK and tragical, indeed, is that page in the history of the American revolutionary war, which records Benedict Arnold's atrocious scheme of treason against his native land, in its struggle against British oppression. Equally strange and startling is the story which narrates the discovery and frustration of so perfidious a plot. Around the memory of the unfortunate Andre, pity still wreathes her romantic chaplet; while the name of Arnold will, to the end of time, transfix every patriotic mind, as that of the blackest among modern criminals. The treacherous deed was committed, too, in a year of deep depression on the part of the Americans. Of Arnold, personally and professionally, it may be remarked, that he was born in Norwich, Connecticut, in 1740, and began his business career at an early age, as a horsedealer, and not over-scrupulous. He was also for a time a druggist and bookseller in New Haven. At the beginning of the war of the Revolution he placed himself at the head of a volunteer company, and soon distinguished himself; was associated also with General Montgomery in the expedition against Quebec. In this latter most disastrous affair, undertaken in severe weather, his illustrious colleague lost his life, and Arnold, who was severely wounded in the leg, displayed the highest abilities as a commander and the greatest gallantry as a soldier, eliciting Washington's warmest esteem and admiration. But, licentious and rapacious as he was brave and intelligent, he plundered Montreal in his retreat, and by his misconduct exasperated the minds of the Canadians, who previously were not hostile to the Revolution. After exhibiting great courage and skill on Lake Champlain, at Fort Schuyler, and the battle of Stillwater, his leg was shattered by a ball on the seventh of October, 1777, in a daring assault on the English lines, which he penetrated, and but for his wound would have carried. Being thus unfitted for active service, he was appointed commander of the garrison at Philadelphia, but his dissipation, extortion, and peculation, at last subjected him to a trial by court martial, and to a reprimand from Washington, at the beginning of 1779. This sentence was approved by Congress, and carried into execution by General Washington. Embarrassed in his circumstances, disappointed in his expectations, and exasperated by disgrace, he formed the design of retrieving his misfortunes and satisfying his revenge, by betraying his country. It was in this wise: While the British army was in Philadelphia, in the spring of 1778, a grand parting entertainment was given by the royalists to Sir William Howe, the British commander-in-chief. Major Andre, made Adjutant-General of the army by Howe's successor, was one of the chief managers of the affair. Miss Shippen, a Philadelphia belle (and who subsequently became Mrs. Arnold), figured conspicuously among the actors of the entertainment, and she and Andre kept up a correspondence afterward. Through this channel Arnold saw, after his marriage with Miss Shippen, an opportunity for communicating with Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander at New York. In other words, he determined to betray his country,-being, in this respect, an almost solitary instance, Dr. Benjamin Church, of Massachusetts, surgeon-general, being the other principal offender. Under fictitious names, and in the disguise of mercantile business, Arnold was now in treacherous correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, through Major Andre. To him the British general committed the maturing of Arnold's treason, and, to facilitate measures for its execution, the sloop of war Vulture moved up the North river, and took a station convenient for the purpose, but not so near as to excite suspicion. An interview was agreed on, and in the night of September twenty-first, 1780, he was taken in a boat, which was dispatched for the purpose, and carried to the beach, without the posts of both armies, under a pass for John Anderson. He met General Arnold at the house of a Mr. Smith. Yielding with reluctance to the urgent representations of Arnold, Andre laid aside his regimentals, which he had hitherto worn under a surtout, putting on a suit of ordinary clothes instead; and now, receiving a pass from the American general, authorizing him, under the feigned name of John Anderson, to "proceed on the public service to the White Plains, or lower if he thought proper," he set out on his return in the evening of the twentysecond, accompanied by Joshua Smith, and passed the night at Crompond. The next morning he crossed the Hudson to King's Ferry on the east side. A little beyond the Croton, Smith deeming him safe, bade him adieu. Alone, and without having excited the least suspicion, Andre passed the American guards, and was silently congratulating himself that he had passed all danger, when, coming to a place where a small stream crossed the road and ran into a woody dell, a man stepped out from the trees, leveled a musket, and brought him to a stand, while two other men, similarly armed, showed themselves prepared to second their comrades. The man who at first stepped out wore a refugee uniform. At sight of it, Andre's heart leapt, and he felt himself secure. Losing all caution, he exclaimed eagerly: "Gentlemen, where do you belong? I hope to our party!" "What party?" was their immediate inquiry in response; the trio consisting of scouting militiamen, named Paulding, Williams, and Van Wart. "The party below,"-meaning New York, was the answer. "We e do," was the shrewd reply of the three, as they now seized the bridle of the unfortunate man's horse, and challenged his business in that place. Seeing, beyond all doubt, the hands he had fallen into, Andre quickly shifted his tactics by jocosely remarking that what he had first represented himself to be was merely by way of badinage, and that he was in reality a Continental officer, going down to Dobbs Ferry to get information. from below; so saying, he drew forth and showed them the pass from General Arnold. This in the first place would have sufficed, but his strange conduct and imprudent speech had so thoroughly betrayed him, that the three militiamen insisted on searching his person. They therefore obliged him to take off his coat and vest, and found on him eighty dollars in Continental money, but nothing to warrant suspicion of anything sinister, and were about to let him proceed, when one of them marks on the works; also other important documents. While dressing again, Andre endeavored to ransom himself from his captors. He would give any sum of money, if they would let him go; would give his horse, saddle, bridle, gold watch, and one hundred guineas, and would send them to any place that might be fixed upon. Williams asked, ironically, whether he would not give more than all that. Andre replied, that he would give any reward they might name either in goods or money, and would remain with two of their party while one went to New York to get it. Here Paulding broke in and declared with an oath, that if he would give ten thousand guineas he should not stir one step. On the morning of the twenty-eighth of September, Andre, in charge of Major Tallmadge, was conveyed in a barge to King's Ferry. Being both young, of equal rank, and prepossessing manners, a frank and cordial intercourse grew up between them. By a cartel, mutually agreed upon, each might put to the other any question not involving a third person. They were passing below the rocky heights of West Point and in full view of the frowning fortress, when Tallmadge asked Andre whether he would have taken an active |