[Illustration: “This is a great pleasure to see you again.”]
ARNOLD’S
TEMPTER
_By_
Benjamin F. Comfort
[Illustration]
THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO.
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
1908
COPYRIGHT, 1908
BY
THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO.
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
U. S. A.
All Rights Reserved
_Dedicated to
My Wife
A. C. C._
ILLUSTRATIONS
_Frontispiece_, “This is a great pleasure to see you again”
_Page_
Mollie Greydon 34
Two girls were seeking wild strawberries on the banks
of the Wingohocking 148
“Have we the pleasure of the gentleman’s name and
occupation?” quizzed the old man 178
Barclugh simply sat back and laughed till he was tired out 222
Captain Risk engaged two seamen, cutlass in one hand
and pistol in the other 275
She noticed how longingly he watched her depart 333
Mollie put down her needle-work and ran to meet her 360
ARNOLD’S TEMPTER
CHAPTER I
Roderick Barclugh was invited to dine with the FitzMaurices and
Benedict Arnold was to meet him.
The arrival in Philadelphia of a gentleman with credentials from Dr.
Franklin to the Secretary of Congress, who had much influence with the
French Court, and who had bills of exchange for twenty thousand pounds
sterling created stirring comment among the fashionables. He was to
meet without delay the choice spirits on the inside of Philadelphia’s
aristocratical party.
Robert FitzMaurice’s mansion, to which had been made great additions,
to suit the tastes of the new proprietor, was an old Colonial landmark.
The ambition of this merchant prince and financier had ever been to
establish his family and his fortunes under the English system of
aristocracy, upon such a grand scale of magnificence that he could
claim all the blandishments of a crest and a title which, of course,
belong to a person of substance. His entertainments were numerous,
and there gathered all the intriguers in and out of Congress,--those
who sanctioned the Revolution on political grounds but who shuddered
at the utterance of the word ‘democracy.’ The clergy, the judiciary,
the lawyers, the knights-errant and the financiers, found congenial
atmosphere and hospitality in this house; for schemes were there laid
to win independence, but, once won, the English Constitution and its
institutions of aristocracy and finance were the only safeguards of
prosperity and liberty which the common people should consider.
Upon the occasion of the dinner for Roderick Barclugh, the guests most
suitable for an affair of such financial and political importance were
to be Judge Shippen and his charming daughter, Bessie; General Arnold
and his bride, formerly Miss Peggy Shippen; Reverend Mr. White, Rector
of St. Peter’s and brother to Mrs. FitzMaurice; Thomas Milling and Mrs.
Milling; Mr. Wilson, a lawyer, and chief coadjutor in aristocratic
plans. Besides the foregoing, Colonel Hamilton, the aide of General
Washington, being in Philadelphia on business, and Roderick Barclugh
completed the list of the older set. A bevy of young and attractive
belles of the day were invited to give spirit to the party. These
were Miss Chew, daughter of Judge Chew, a suspected Tory; Miss Logan,
a representative of an old and distinguished Quaker family; and Miss
Greydon, a beauty and wit, who, by the way, was the only personage
present of advanced democratic belief.
At half-past five the coach-and-four of General Arnold rolled into the
_porte cochere_ of the FitzMaurice mansion, and the General, dressed
with wine-colored coat and knee breeches, buckles and velvet waistcoat,
lace frills in his sleeves and bosom, gallantly escorted his young and
brilliant wife up the steps into the spacious hallway.
Roderick Barclugh arrived with Mr. Wilson in the latter’s carriage.
Liveried lackeys bowed and scraped at every turn as the guests arrived
and retired to the dressing-rooms, and afterwards presented themselves
to the hostess and host in the reception room. The elegant apparel and
polished manners of Roderick Barclugh impressed everybody present with
a feeling that he was a man of affairs.
As General Arnold came into the room bearing on his arm Mrs.
Arnold,--blushing, beautiful and _distingue_--, both stepping up
urbanely to greet the hostess and host, Roderick Barclugh read family
domination in the hauteur and firm mouth of the young dame.
As the hostess turned to Roderick Barclugh she said:
“General Arnold, may I present to you and Mrs. Arnold, Mr. Barclugh?”
Roderick Barclugh bowed twice, very low, and Mrs. Arnold took pains to
say most cordially:
“It is with much pleasure we meet you, Mr. Barclugh,” as she smiled
most sweetly and passed on to the other part of the room to greet
friends.
Colonel Hamilton and Roderick Barclugh were the only ones who were not
intimately acquainted with every one else, so the party at once took on
a most free and jolly air. The young ladies at once lionized Colonel
Hamilton, who was a very popular beau of his time. Miss Greydon was
already making a few good-natured sallies at the Colonel.
Mr. Wilson held the attention of Roderick Barclugh by saying:
“Why, sir, Congress has had so many hot-headed and rabid Democrats that
the people of wealth and substance in the Colonies have dreaded the
issue of the Revolution for fear that the rabble and ignorance of the
country would rule,--in fact, I have no love for the so-called inherent
rights of the people, sir.”
“But why are the influential people of substance encouraging the
Revolution then, if they can see nothing except disorder and anarchy
result therefrom?” was the inquisitive rejoinder of Barclugh.
“Why, sir, those New England delegates under Samuel Adams and
the Southern delegates under Thomas Jefferson were so rabid that
Robert FitzMaurice and myself and our party of conservatives in the
Continental Congress were overwhelmed and compelled to sign the
Declaration of Independence. We did so reluctantly and after a bitter
contest, for the commercial and Quaker interests of Philadelphia
opposed the declaration. If the commercial interests of our country
could have the decision, there would have been no Declaration of
Independence. We would have settled our differences amicably with King
George, maintained our allegiance to the British Crown, and held the
Colonies under the British Constitution,” was the dramatic response of
the Philadelphia lawyer.
“Yes, and every one of you would bargain away your rights as free men
for the sake of so-called commercial interests, which will breed a
class of tyrants more potent than kings,” was the spirited retort of
Miss Greydon, who had been an attentive listener to the doctrines of an
advocate who, she knew, was paid for his opinions.
“Well, well, at politics already! Why it seems, Mr. Barclugh, as though
the Americans were born for politics,--even the ladies have their
opinions,” laughingly remarked the host as he offered his arm to Mrs.
Milling, and then turned to the guests with the words:
“James announces dinner.”
The hostess escorted Mr. Barclugh to Mrs. Arnold for her dinner
partner, and General Arnold to Miss Chew. Colonel Hamilton was selected
to accompany Miss Greydon, and the Reverend Mr. White, Miss Logan. Mr.
Wilson offered his arm to Miss Shippen and then Mr. Thomas Milling his
to the Rector’s wife, Mrs. White. The hostess graciously took the arm
of the eldest of the guests, Judge Shippen, and led the party to table
in the spacious dining-hall.
Mrs. Arnold at once put Roderick Barclugh at his ease by entering into
a lively conversation. Her young and gay spirits shone out serenely as
she said:
“I do wish, Mr. Barclugh, that this horrid war were ended, so that we
could once more live in peace and enjoy our homes and society. Do you
not think some good man could convince the best Americans of the folly
of their cause? Why, I believe I could if I were a man,” as she archly
tossed her head smilingly toward her escort.
“You could charm them into your way of thinking, madam, at all events.
I believe seriously, however, much might be gained for society by such
a course. Against such resources as the Bank of England controls, this
war does seem a hopeless task,” concluded Barclugh.
At table the Reverend Mr. White invoked the divine blessing upon the
assembled guests and prayed that “the havocs of war would cease by the
intercession of the divine wisdom; that the mother country would be
brought to a just realization of the needs of the Colonies; and that
the Colonies would find their true welfare in the safety and protection
of the British Constitution and laws,”--these were the sentiments of
the Chaplain of Congress expressed in private.
Mrs. FitzMaurice watched Colonel Hamilton’s face to ascertain how
these sentiments of her reverend brother affected one so close to the
Commander-in-Chief, but seeing that the Colonel was very enthusiastic
in paying his gallantries to the bevy of young ladies around him, she
became convinced that the British Constitution had Hamilton’s good will.
The hostess turned to Colonel Hamilton, however, and remarked:
“Now, Colonel, we know that you get to see the young ladies very seldom
from your camp, but, come, do let us hear of the Commander-in-Chief,
and what the news is about him.”
“Indeed, madam, I beg your forbearance,” replied Hamilton, “General
Washington is quite well, but he feels very much discouraged. He
complains bitterly about the principal men of the Colonies being
detained at home by private and Colonial affairs, so that the
responsible positions of Congress have fallen into the hands of
incapable and indifferent men. Everything drifts aimlessly along, while
many of our able men retire from Congress in order to prosecute schemes
for private gain instead of devoting their energies to the welfare of
the nation.”
Robert FitzMaurice took a lively interest in the last few remarks and
spiritedly replied:
“Yes, I presume we ought to ruin ourselves for the benefit of an
irresponsible government. Even though we gain our independence, the
government will be dominated by the rabid Whigs in whom we can have
no confidence. There will be no stability of government under such
demagogues as Samuel Adams and Thomas Jefferson. There will be no sound
financial system, nor anything for society to respect but the rag-tag
and bob-tail descended from everywhere and kin to nobody.” As he
concluded the last sally, everybody joined in a general laugh.
“Where could we expect to find any _grandes dames_ or any examples
of gentlemen? We know too well already what would become of a nation
ruled by shopkeepers and bushwhackers. I can see no virtue in the
so-called schemes of self-government; society could never submit to
such indignities. We would have to go to England to escape from such
a rabble,” was the bitter homily of Mrs. Arnold, as she spoke in well
measured language, and showed the fire of her dark eyes, and the charms
of her long lashes and beautiful neck.
“Bravo, madam,” was the challenge of Mr. Wilson, the lawyer, as he
lifted his wine-glass, and all the gentlemen followed to drink to the
sentiments of General Arnold’s blushing bride.
As the General drained his glass, he beamed with satisfaction; the
attention paid his bride tickled the vanity of his nature.
“I am convinced,” remarked Roderick Barclugh, “that if all the ladies
could so successfully convince their friends, the war would soon be
over.”
“Yes, and it will soon be over if Congress does not change for the
better the treatment of the army,”--said Arnold, pointing to himself,
while everybody laughed. “There is no gratitude for soldiers in a
government by the people,” said Arnold.
“You will receive the plaudits of a great people, as an heritage to
your children, General,” slyly, with a chuckle, put in Judge Shippen,
his father-in-law.
“Yes, but applause does not buy bread and butter and pay the bills,
Judge,” was Arnold’s reply.
“But patriots should restrict their needs of money for the sake of
their country,” was the advice of the Reverend Mr. White, the Rector of
St. Peter’s Church.
“Certainly, but patriotism, like patience, ceases to be a virtue when
one’s family must suffer ignominiously as a consequence,” was the
rejoinder of the Commander of Philadelphia.
“But, my dear General,” said Miss Greydon, “what would our cause do if
it were not for the sacrifices of our noble mothers, who say to their
sons: ‘Take this Bible and keep it in your breast as your guide; care
not for me. God will care for the brave and true; pursue your destiny
and return not till the tyrant is driven from our shores,’--like the
Spartan mother who said: ‘Come back with your shield or upon it.’”
“Ah, Miss Greydon,” said Arnold, “such sentiment is very fine, but very
poor business.”
“Ha, ha! that’s it, that’s it. There’s far too much sentiment in our
ideas of government,” said the lawyer, Wilson. “Sentiment can never
overcome Britain’s power and wealth.”
Now that the dinner was well along, and Miss Greydon saw that if any
one was to show loyalty to the cause of the Colonies at this gathering
of choice aristocratic spirits, she must assume the task, thus she
essayed to reply to the lawyer:
“But, Mr. Wilson, the day will be a very sad one for our government
and for our countrymen when we can surrender our cardinal virtues of
patriotism and self-denial in order to let personal gain shape the
destiny of our government. If mere arms and money are more powerful
than the ideas of freedom, of equality and of justice, then wealth and
brute force will rule the world. But if every true American stands
firmly for self-government and an independent system of finance and our
own social relations, Britain can never conquer us. Our nation will
prosper and put Britons to shame for the selfishness and audacity of
their claims. Were I possessed of the powers of an orator, I would not
rest until our Colonies were free to govern themselves in behalf of
human rights--not wealth.”
Everybody looked toward Mrs. Arnold, and those who knew her well
expected an outburst of her fiery nature, but the hostess, feeling
it was now time for the ladies to retire, arose and interposed very
gracefully:
“I think we had better retire in favor of the gentlemen, who can settle
those questions of state by means of wine and song.”
No sooner had the ladies gone, than the host said to the butler at his
side:
“James, you will now bring in the ‘jolly mariner.’”
At once the head waiter appeared bearing a huge punch-bowl laden with a
concoction,--the pride of the host. Besides slices of tropical fruits
and a foundation of rare old Burgundy, it was made smooth with sugar
and Jamaica rum. Then by way of a backbone to “stiffen” it a little,
James had put in a good portion of _Cognac_.
General Arnold had already drunk with everybody whom he could induce;
he was just beginning to feel his importance when the “jolly mariner”
arrived, and glasses were filled; then Arnold gave vent to the toast
nearest his heart. He arose and proposed,
“Here’s success to privateering.”
Standing, everybody drank deeply to this sentiment, for the host was
enriching himself on it, and Arnold hoped to support his extravagance
by it. The punch was so smooth that even the old heads desired another
bumper.
Old Thomas Milling, the head of the host’s trading-firm, was now
beginning to feel rather mellow and when he reflected that privateering
smacked of the gay sea-rover he sang a couple of stanzas of the old
ballad:
“My name was Captain Kidd,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d,
“My name was Captain Kidd,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d,
“I roamed from sound to sound
“And many a ship I found,
“That I sank or ran aground,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d;
“That I sank or ran aground,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d.”
“By George, that punch has the magic in it, Robert, to make Milling
turn loose,” said Wilson.
“Bravo, Milling.”
“Encore, encore.”
“Ha, ha! We’ll have the next,” rang out a medley of voices.
“All’s well, gentlemen, if it pleases you,” continued the old merchant:
“My name was Captain Kidd,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d,
“My name was Captain Kidd,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d,
“Farewell to young and old
“All jolly seamen bold,
“You’re welcome to my gold,
“I must die, I must die.
“You’re welcome to my gold,
“I must die, I must die.”
“Here’s to the gold, gentlemen, he says we’re welcome--hic--to it,”
said Arnold as he extended a wobbling wine-glass.
“Captain Kidd must have been a bold rover of the seas,” remarked
Roderick Barclugh, “to have been commissioned by the British Admiralty
to clear the seas of pirates and then to have turned to the plundering
himself. I rather admire the audacity of character. His riches would
have made him a great man if he had escaped the gallows, like many
another before and since his time. The riches are what we must have, no
matter so much how they come.”
“Hear, hear, gentlemen,” said Arnold, as he stupidly raised his
wine-glass and drank again, “we _must_ have the riches.”
At this moment the butler came quietly into the room and touching
General Arnold on the arm, delivered a message.
The Commander of Philadelphia took his leave, and everybody smiled as
he made extra efforts to steady his steps out of the room.
While the gentlemen were discussing privateers and the “jolly mariner,”
the ladies had gone to the drawing-room to have coffee served.
Mrs. FitzMaurice by an opportune retirement of the ladies from the
table had evaded an impending storm, for she had known Mrs. Arnold
from girlhood, and saw that a conflict of sentiment between her and
Miss Greydon was inevitable. As the hostess had a premonition of the
impending clash, she thought best to have the scene among the ladies
alone, for they all knew the hysterical temper of the General’s wife.
As soon as the ladies had been seated at the tables for coffee, Mrs.
Arnold’s ire began to gather headway.
“I should think,” she said, “that examples of the Spartan woman were
good enough for the common people, but for the gentry to give up their
birth-rights and fortunes, and to sacrifice themselves and their future
for a miserable system of self-government, such statements are vulgar
and indecent. Why, just to think! General Arnold asked the Committee
on Military Affairs and the Commander-in-Chief to be transferred to
the command of West Point, and thus far they have ignored his request.
Surely he deserves _some_ honors.”
“Why, Mrs. Arnold, I believe the proper thing to do, entertaining such
sentiments toward our principles of free government, instead of seeking
West Point, that General Arnold ought to resign, or in fact join the
other party,” flashed from Miss Greydon’s ready tongue.
“That’s too much. I--I--I can’t stand it. O General! O Papa! I must
leave this room. Somebody, somebody better come here,” shrieked
the General’s wife as the hostess led the unfortunate lady to the
dressing-room, and sent for General Arnold.