He loved a fair lady, Honora Sneyd, who loved and married another. That was in 1773. As a matter of fact she rejected him as early as 1771, and he then entered the army. There was no reason for her rejection except that it did not please her to love him back, but did please her to love someone else; for Andre was a person of good fortune and family, though without title -- and Honora did not marry a title. For nine long years Andre mourned his lost Honora -- his lost Honora who had no love for him. Once when taken prisoner in Canada by Montgomery, he saved his happily married Honora's picture, and deemed that "compensation enough for all his sorrows." What exquisite sensibility for a very healthy young soldier who could convert himself into a cattle driver in case of need; what romantic softness for the mean thief of Dr. Franklin's books and the cold-blooded negotiator of the most devilish treason of history! Andre's pensive love was much overacted, or else it was a kind of hopeless Schwarmerei inconsistent with a nature of any fundamental strength -- as in like manner his protestations of honor were the mete vaporings of an extremely self-conscious man given to the abstractions more than the substance of virtuous things. In neither case were his traits those which mark the vigorous mind. The true Andre was a brave and cultivated but not high or ample minded individual, no better and no worse than most of the wellborn, well-educated, and well-favored British youth of his period. He had all their usual charming qualities in somewhat more than the average degree -- but no original parts of any important interest that very searching inquiry has ever disclosed. His sole claim to distinction -- aside from his part in an infamous transaction -- is that he was put to one of the most righteous and exemplary deaths ever administered, in a highly dramatic conjunction of circumstances, commiserated and mourned by great-hearted foemen whose ruin and enslavement by the vilest methods he had plotted.