Interview of Washington with the French Officers at Hartford.—Plan of
Attack disconcerted.—Washington’s Return.—Scenes at
Arnold’s Head-quarters in the Highlands.—Tidings of André’s
Capture.—Flight of Arnold.—Letters from the Traitor.—Washington’s
Precautions.—Situation of Mrs. Arnold.
On the very day that the treasonable conference between Arnold and André
took place, on the banks of Haverstraw Bay, Washington had his interview
with the French officers at Hartford. It led to no important result.
Intelligence was received that the squadron of the Count de Guichen, on
which they had relied to give them superiority by sea, had sailed for
Europe. This disconcerted their plans, and Washington, in consequence,
set out two or three days sooner than had been anticipated on his return
to his head-quarters on the Hudson. He was accompanied by Lafayette and
General Knox with their suites; also, part of the way, by Count Matthew
Dumas, aide-de-camp to Rochambeau. The count, who regarded Washington
with an enthusiasm which appears to have been felt by many of the young
French officers, gives an animated picture of the manner in which he was
greeted in one of the towns through which they passed. “We arrived
there,” says he, “at night; the whole population had sallied forth
beyond the suburbs. We were surrounded by a crowd of children carrying
torches, and reiterating the acclamations of the citizens; all were
eager to touch the person of him whom they hailed with loud cries as
their father, and they thronged before us so as almost to prevent our
moving onward. General Washington, much affected, paused a few moments,
and pressing my hand, ‘We may be beaten by the English,’ said he, ‘it is
the chance of war; but there is the army they will never conquer!’”
These few words speak that noble confidence in the enduring patriotism
of his countrymen, which sustained him throughout all the fluctuating
fortunes of the Revolution; yet at this very moment it was about to
receive one of the cruelest of wounds.
On approaching the Hudson, Washington took a more circuitous route than
the one he had originally intended, striking the river at Fishkill just
above the Highlands, that he might visit West Point, and show the
marquis the works which had been erected there during his absence in
France. Circumstances detained them a night at Fishkill. Their baggage
was sent on to Arnold’s quarters in the Robinson House, with a message
apprising the general that they would breakfast there the next day. In
the morning (September 24th) they were in the saddle before break of
day, having a ride to make of eighteen miles through the mountains. It
was a pleasant and animated one. Washington was in excellent spirits,
and the buoyant marquis, and genial, warm-hearted Knox, were companions
with whom he was always disposed to unbend.
When within a mile of the Robinson House, Washington turned down a cross
road leading to the banks of the Hudson. Lafayette apprised him that he
was going out of the way, and hinted that Mrs. Arnold must be waiting
breakfast for him. “Ah, marquis!” replied he good-humoredly, “you young
men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold. I see you are eager to be with her
as soon as possible. Go you and breakfast with her, and tell her not to
wait for me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of
the river but will be with her shortly.”
The marquis and General Knox, however, turned off and accompanied him
down to the redoubts, while Colonel Hamilton and Lafayette’s
aide-de-camp, Major James McHenry, continued along the main road to the
Robinson House, bearing Washington’s apology, and request that the
breakfast might not be retarded.
The family with the two aides-de-camp sat down to breakfast. Mrs. Arnold
had arrived but four or five days previously from Philadelphia, with her
infant child, then about six months old. She was bright and amiable as
usual. Arnold was silent and gloomy. It was an anxious moment with him.
This was the day appointed for the consummation of the plot, when the
enemy’s ships were to ascend the river. The return of the
commander-in-chief from the East two days sooner than had been
anticipated, and his proposed visit to the forts, threatened to
disconcert everything. What might be the consequence Arnold could not
conjecture. An interval of fearful imaginings was soon brought to a
direful close. In the midst of the repast a horseman alighted at the
gate. It was the messenger bearing Jameson’s letter to Arnold, stating
the capture of André, and that dangerous papers found on him had been
forwarded to Washington.
The mine had exploded beneath Arnold’s feet; yet in this awful moment he
gave an evidence of that quickness of mind which had won laurels for him
when in the path of duty. Controlling the dismay that must have smitten
him to the heart, he beckoned Mrs. Arnold from the breakfast-table,
signifying a wish to speak with her in private. When alone with her in
her room up stairs, he announced in hurried words that he was a ruined
man, and must instantly fly for his life! Overcome by the shock, she
fell senseless on the floor. Without pausing to aid her, he hurried down
stairs, sent the messenger to her assistance, probably to keep him from
an interview with the other officers; returned to the breakfast room,
and informed his guests that he must haste to West Point to prepare for
the reception of the commander-in-chief: and mounting the horse of the
messenger, which stood saddled at the door, galloped down by what is
still called Arnold’s Path, to the landing-place, where his six-oared
barge was moored. Throwing himself into it, he ordered his men to pull
out into the middle of the river, and then made down with all speed for
Teller’s Point, which divides Haverstraw Bay from the Tappan Sea, saying
he must be back soon to meet the commander-in chief.
Washington arrived at the Robinson House shortly after the flight of the
traitor. Being informed that Mrs. Arnold was in her room, unwell, and
that Arnold had gone to West Point to receive him, he took a hasty
breakfast and repaired to the fortress, leaving word that he and his
suite would return to dinner.
In crossing the river, he noticed that no salute was fired from the
fort, nor was there any preparation to receive him on his landing.
Colonel Lamb, the officer in command, who came down to the shore,
manifested surprise at seeing him, and apologized for this want of
military ceremony, by assuring him he had not been apprised of his
intended visit.
“Is not General Arnold here?” demanded Washington.
“No, sir. He has not been here for two days past; nor have I heard from
him in that time.”
This was strange and perplexing, but no sinister suspicion entered
Washington’s mind. He remained at the Point throughout the morning,
inspecting the fortifications. In the mean time, the messenger whom
Jameson had dispatched to Hartford with a letter covering the papers
taken on André, arrived at the Robinson House. He had learnt, while on
the way to Hartford, that Washington had left that place, whereupon he
turned bridle to overtake him, but missed him in consequence of the
general’s change of route. Coming by the lower road, the messenger had
passed through Salem, where André was confined, and brought with him the
letter written by that unfortunate officer to the commander-in-chief,
the purport of which has already been given. These letters being
represented as of the utmost moment, were opened and read by Colonel
Hamilton, as Washington’s aide-de-camp and confidential officer. He
maintained silence as to their contents; met Washington, as he and his
companions were coming up from the river, on their return from West
Point, spoke to him a few words in a low voice, and they retired
together into the house. Whatever agitation Washington may have felt
when these documents of deep-laid treachery were put before him, he wore
his usual air of equanimity when he rejoined his companions. Taking Knox
and Lafayette aside, he communicated to them the intelligence, and
placed the papers in their hands. “Whom can we trust now?” was his only
comment, but it spoke volumes.
His first idea was to arrest the traitor. Conjecturing the direction of
his flight, he dispatched Colonel Hamilton on horseback to spur with all
speed to Verplanck’s Point, which commands the narrow part of the
Hudson, just below the Highlands, with orders to the commander to
intercept Arnold should he not already have passed that post. This done,
when dinner was announced, he invited the company to table. “Come,
gentlemen; since Mrs. Arnold is unwell, and the general is absent, let
us sit down without ceremony.” The repast was a quiet one, for none but
Lafayette and Knox, beside the general, knew the purport of the letters
just received.
In the mean time, Arnold, panic-stricken, had sped his caitiff flight
through the Highlands, infamy howling in his rear; arrest threatening
him in the advance; a fugitive past the posts which he had recently
commanded; shrinking at the sight of that flag which hitherto it had
been his glory to defend! Alas! how changed from the Arnold, who, but
two years previously, when repulsed, wounded and crippled, before the
walls of Quebec, could yet write proudly from a shattered camp, “I am in
the way of my duty, and I know no fear!”
He had passed through the Highlands in safety, but there were the
batteries at Verplanck’s Point yet to fear. Fortunately for him,
Hamilton, with the order for his arrest, had not arrived there.
His barge was known by the garrison. A white handkerchief displayed gave
it the sanction of a flag of truce: it was suffered to pass without
question, and the traitor effected his escape to the _Vulture_ sloop of
war, anchored a few miles below. As if to consummate his degradation by
a despicable act of treachery and meanness, he gave up to the commander
his coxswain and six bargemen as prisoners of war. We are happy to add,
that this perfidy excited the scorn of the British officers; and, when
it was found that the men had supposed they were acting under the
protection of a flag, they were released by order of Sir Henry Clinton.
Colonel Hamilton returned to the Robinson House and reported the escape
of the traitor. He brought two letters also to Washington, which had
been sent on shore from the _Vulture_, under a flag of truce. One was
from Arnold, of which the following is a transcript:—
“Sir,—The heart which is conscious of its own rectitude, cannot attempt
to palliate a step which the world may censure as wrong; I have ever
acted from a principle of love to my country, since the commencement of
the present unhappy contest between Great Britain and the colonies; the
same principle of love to my country actuates my present conduct,
however it may appear inconsistent to the world, who seldom judge right
of any man’s actions.
“I ask no favor for myself. I have too often experienced the ingratitude
of my country to attempt it; but, from the known humanity of your
Excellency, I am induced to ask your protection for Mrs. Arnold from
every insult and injury that a mistaken vengeance of my country may
expose her to. It ought to fall only on me; she is as good and as
innocent as an angel, and is incapable of doing wrong. I beg she may be
permitted to return to her friends in Philadelphia, or to come to me as
she may choose; from your Excellency I have no fears on her account, but
she may suffer from the mistaken fury of the country.”
The other letter was from Colonel Beverley Robinson, interceding for the
release of André, on the plea that he was on shore under the sanction of
a flag of truce, at the request of Arnold. Robinson had hoped to find
favor with Washington on the score of their early intimacy.
Notwithstanding Washington’s apparent tranquillity and real
self-possession, it was a time of appalling distrust. How far the
treason had extended; who else might be implicated in it, was unknown.
Arnold had escaped, and was actually on board of the _Vulture_; he knew
everything about the condition of the posts: might he not persuade the
enemy, in the present weak state of the garrisons, to attempt a _coup de
main_? Washington instantly, therefore, dispatched a letter to Colonel
Wade, who was in temporary command at West Point. “General Arnold is
gone to the enemy,” writes he. “I have just now received a line from him
inclosing one to Mrs. Arnold, dated on board the _Vulture_. I request
that you will be as vigilant as possible, and as the enemy may have it
in contemplation to attempt some enterprise, _even to-night_, against
these posts, I wish you to make, immediately after the receipt of this,
the best disposition you can of your force, so as to have a proportion
of men in each work on the west side of the river.”
A regiment stationed in the Highlands was ordered to the same duty, as
well as a body of the Massachusetts militia from Fishkill. At half-past
seven in the evening, Washington wrote to General Greene, who, in his
absence, commanded the army at Tappan; urging him to put the left
division in motion as soon as possible, with orders to proceed to King’s
Ferry, where, or before they should arrive there, they would be met with
further orders. “The division,” writes he, “will come on light, leaving
their heavy baggage to follow. You will also hold all the troops in
readiness to move on the shortest notice. Transactions of a most
interesting nature, and such as will astonish you, have been just
discovered.”
His next thought was about André. He was not acquainted with him
personally, and the intrigues in which he had been engaged, and the
errand on which he had come, made him consider him an artful and
resolute person. He had possessed himself of dangerous information, and
in a manner had been arrested with the key of the citadel in his pocket.
On the same evening, therefore, Washington wrote to Colonel Jameson,
charging that every precaution should be taken to prevent Major André
from making his escape. “He will no doubt effect it, if possible; and in
order that he may not have it in his power, you will send him under the
care of such a party and so many officers as to preclude him from the
least opportunity of doing it. That he may be less liable to be
recaptured by the enemy, who will no doubt make every effort to regain
him, he had better be conducted to this place by some upper road, rather
than by the route of Crompond. I would not wish Mr. André to be treated
with insult; but he does not appear to stand upon the footing of a
common prisoner of war, and, therefore, he is not entitled to the usual
indulgences which they receive, and is to be most closely and narrowly
watched.”
In the mean time, Mrs. Arnold remained in her room in a state bordering
on frenzy. Arnold might well confide in the humanity and delicacy of
Washington in respect to her. He regarded her with the sincerest
commiseration, acquitting her of all previous knowledge of her husband’s
guilt. On remitting to her, by one of his aides-de-camp, the letter of
her husband, written from on board of the _Vulture_, he informed her
that he had done all that depended upon himself to have him arrested,
but not having succeeded, he experienced a pleasure in assuring her of
his safety.[35]
A letter of Hamilton’s written at the time, with all the sympathies of a
young man, gives a touching picture of Washington’s first interview with
her. “She for a time entirely lost herself. The general went up to see
her, and she upbraided him with being in a plot to murder her child. One
moment she raved, another she melted into tears, sometimes she pressed
her infant to her bosom, and lamented its fate occasioned by the
imprudence of its father, in a manner that would have pierced
insensibility itself. All the sweetness of beauty, all the loveliness of
innocence, all the tenderness of a wife, and all the fondness of a
mother, showed themselves in her appearance and conduct.”
During the brief time she remained at the Robinson House, she was
treated with the utmost deference and delicacy, but soon set off, under
a passport of Washington, for her father’s house in Philadelphia.
[Illustration]