Herman Zedwitz was a native German who had served in the Seven Years’ War (known as the French and Indian War in America) in the army of the King of Prussia. For a few months during that time, his unit, with him as the commander, was assigned to serve with the British cavalry, and he became acquainted with the famous British Lieutenant General John Manners, Marquess of Granby, who apparently thought well of him.
In 1770, a few years after the war, Granby wrote to Zedwitz in Germany. Britain and Spain were disputing over the Falkland Islands, and it looked like war might break out. Granby offered to pay Zedwitz to recruit some German riflemen to serve with the British forces. Zedwitz recruited 20 men for starters and took them to England as agreed; but then Granby died, Britain and Spain settled the dispute diplomatically, and Zedwitz couldn’t get anybody to pay him, so he had to send the men back home at his own expense.
Later, he emigrated with his wife and children to America. When the Revolutionary War broke out, he joined the army as a major, and was later promoted to lieutenant colonel. He participated in the disastrous attack on Quebec, where he was seriously injured — not by an enemy bullet, but by “a fall from a precipice”, making him “unfit for active duty”. He was still considered “a brave good officer”, however, and in July 1776 he was recommended to be assigned to “some stationary duty, such as the command of some fort”.
All this time, while serving in the American army, he was thinking of “how to get my money which was robbed from me” by the British, “and pay my debts”. He came up with the idea of tricking the British commander, Lord Howe, by offering to spy for money. So he wrote a letter — in “broke English” — and arranged for someone to secretly take it to the loyalist New York governor William Tryon, with whom Zedwitz may have been acquainted, and who could then pass it on to Howe. If his plan worked, then the British would end up paying £2,000 “in hard gold” for intelligence that wouldn’t actually do them any good, and Zedwitz would get his money back.
At least, that was his story. On August 23, 1776, he outlined his plan to a man named Augustus Stein — also a native German, apparently — and the next day, he gave Stein the letter to deliver to Tryon. But instead of trying to deliver the letter, Stein read it and told an American officer. The very next day, Zedwitz was court-martialed for “holding a treacherous correspondence with, and giving intelligence to, the enemies of the United States.” Zedwitz asked for and was granted a day to prepare his defense.
When the court met the next day, Zedwitz pleaded not guilty. The letter he had written was presented, and he acknowledged that he had written it. Augustus Stein testified, and then Zedwitz presented his written defense (somebody must have helped him write it, because it was in far better English than his letter, though it still wasn’t perfect). Last to testify was Brigadier General William Alexander, Lord Stirling, who commanded the brigade in which Zedwitz served; he said that Zedwitz had told him something in early August about a plan to get his money back, “but I paid but little attention to the story”, and Zedwitz didn’t give many details, nor did he say anything more about it afterwards.
In his defense, Zedwitz said his intent in his letter “was to make the Governour believe that he might expect great service from me”; to tell him “such stories as he might believe, without any intention on my part of performing” — all in order to get the money, and nothing more.
Was Zedwitz guilty? I’m not sure, and his limited English doesn’t make it any easier to determine. The fact that he didn’t tell the details of his plan to his commander, nor get his approval, nor show him the letter before sending it, is certainly suspicious, as is the fact that he told Stein “we were all lost” — meaning that the American cause was hopeless, and implying that he was basically switching sides in order to save his neck.
Then again, a lot of what he put in his letter seems to have been just plain baloney, and why would he do that if he were really trying to help the British? For example, he said there was a plan to poison the water supply for the British on Staten Island, and that a huge reward had been promised if it were successful:
The 20th of this [month] I Found 4 Fellows at the generals House wich proposed to Spoil the Watering place, they brought along 14 Botles of Stof as Black as an Ink it was Tried and Found good as they. The gen: promised Every one £1000 if it Stands 6 weeks, pleas to keep a good luk out. This is at present all I am able with Truth to Write.
(I’d say it was more than he was “able with Truth to Write.”)
On the other hand, the amounts of money he mentioned in his letter — £1,000 each to four men for poisoning a single water supply, and £2,000 for spying — were unrealistic. If he were really trying to save his neck, why didn’t he ask a price that the British might actually agree to?
Maybe he was trying to straddle the fence: If the British won, then they would treat him well because he had (supposedly) helped them. If the Americans won, or if he was caught, then he could plead (as he did) that he was just trying to trick the British. And in either case, he might get the money.
At any rate, the court martial found Zedwitz guilty of planning and attempting to correspond with and provide intelligence to the enemy. For punishment, they sentenced him to be “cashiered” — that is, kicked him out of the army and declared “incapable of ever holding a commission in the service of the United American States.”