A tale of two hangings
It’s all over but the shouting.
John Andre is captured near West Point and knows he’ll be executed for plotting with Benedict Arnold.
Abraham Woodhull is a show trial away from the gallows in Setauket after a delighted Capt.
Credit: Antony Platt/AMC
Simcoe finally catches him committing treason against the Crown.
Arnold’s defection was a devastating blow to George Washington, who was truly blindsided by the betrayal.
Washington took this matter extremely personally, judging by his taking the lead in Andre’s interrogation.
Even his sympathetic mentions of Peggy seem designed to test Andre’s reaction.
In New York, Arnold is discovering he’s not to be welcomed with open arms.
Nobody loves a traitor, even one you paid for.
Arnold is eager to prove his worth, if not in espionage then on the battlefield.
Bottom line: The British are stuck with Arnold, and Andre is doomed.
So Arnold does what he always does: he lashes out.
At least Andre has military protocol and the rules of war to determine his date with the hangman.
There’s no doubt of Abe’s guilt, of course, but his execution is a lynching.
Abe elects to defend himself, but he clearly doesn’t recognize the authority of the court.
He refuses to speak up for himself or cross-examine the witnesses.
Nevertheless, the Judge will not be rushed in his prosecution, to Simcoe’s growing irritation.
“I killed him,” he says, interrupting his father’s lengthy closing statement.
Of course, he’s not referring to a British soldier, but his own brother, Thomas.
Andre’s trial is slightly more legitimate, but the outcome is just as much a formality.
Ben fiercely argues for hanging as justice for Hale’s murder, but Washington is considering the bigger picture.
Hanging Andre could have blowback, and not just Arnold’s threats to slay American prisoners.
Ben’s righteousness eventually irks Washington, and he finally exposes the secret about the death of Nathan Hale.
His famous last words, quoted from Joseph Addison’s popular 18th-century playCato, are an American fairy tale.
“He didn’t write them and he never said them wedid,” Washington says.
“[Like Andre], he wished to be seen as a soldier not a spy.
We altered what he said, and thus converted a failed mission into an act of martyrdom.”
The song is true:who lives, who dies, who tells your story?
But there’s never been any doubt about which centuryTurnwas written.
“It’s about something greater thanthemandus,” says Samuel.
“We have sacrificed enough,” Robert retorts.
“[God] knows that.”
Many times, we’ve heard Cooke lobby superior officers to take their time in winning the war.
Do the right thing."
As it turns out, the Judge had been doing the right thing, in his own self-serving way.
But is Cooke too late?
But he didn’t commit his crime for king and country, as Hale did.
“I did it for a woman,” he says, correcting Ben.
“That is the loss I regret more so than my own life.”
At the gallows, Andre plays his part.
He literally marches to the platform.
He puts the noose around his own neck.
He puts his own blindfold on.
And then he sees Peggy, and they lock eyes.
Kudos for that last fleeting moment, JJ Feild.
Afterwards, Ben confronts Peggy and presents her with the evidence Andre’s final drawings.
is the only response she can muster.
“It is difficult to measure sacrifice,” Robert says, in his much more thoughtful air.
“Often it seems to me that it is a road with no end.”
Maybe Robert is disgusted by this crude customer, who sold his soul so cheaply.
Or maybe he agrees with him.
Major Hewlett and Capt.
