doubt could exist as to the intended insult of Washington conveyed in
the above letter. Suffice it to say, that he was put under immediate
arrest; and in August was tried before a court-martial on three
separate charges, viz: "for disobeying orders, in not attacking the
enemy;" "for making an unnecessary and disorderly retreat;" and "for
disrespect to the commander-in-chief, in two letters."
Of these charges, with a slight modification of one of them, he was
found guilty, and suspended from the army for twelve months. The
decision was most unexpected and distasteful, as might be supposed, to a
man of Lee's ardent and self-complacential feelings. Washington he never
forgave. Stung by the decision of the court-martial, against that
body--against congress itself--he launched his bitter invectives. At the
expiration of his suspension, and while congress was contemplating his
restoration, he addressed an insulting letter to that body, which
hastened his dismission. We add, only, that he retired to Virginia,
where on a farm he passed the residue of his days.
[Illustration]
XII. TREACHERY OF ARNOLD.
THE Vulture in the Hudson--Midnight Adventure--Benedict
Arnold--Repairs to Cambridge--Expedition to Canada--Created a
Brigadier-general--Grounds of Complaint--Honorable Conduct in
Connecticut--Appointed to the command at Philadelphia--Charges
preferred against him--Reprimanded by Washington--Plots against
his Country--Correspondence with Sir H. Clinton--Appointed to
the command of West Point--Interview with Andre--Capture of
Andre--Arrival of Washington--Escape of Arnold--Developments of
Arnold's traitorous intentions--Trial and Condemnation of
Andre--Subsequent incidents in the life of Arnold.
[Illustration: The Vulture.]
On the night of the 21st of September, 1780, there was lying at anchor
on the Hudson, a few miles below West Point, a British sloop-of-war,
called the _Vulture_. A little before midnight, a boat, with muffled
oars, and rowed by two men, put off from the American shore, and
proceeded with great caution towards the sloop. In the stern of the boat
sat a third man, of more consequence than the oarsmen, and the leader of
the secret expedition. It was a tranquil night; the stars peered out
with unwonted lustre, and the waters moved slowly down the channel.
What object was proposed by this cautious midnight adventure? Was
intelligence sought from the enemy, or was it to be imparted to them?
Was it a patriotic or a traitorous expedition?--The sequel will tell.
Among the brave and chivalrous men who early engaged in the defence of
American rights, was _Benedict Arnold_. On the occurrence of the
battle of Lexington, he was residing at New Haven, and was commandant
of a company of militia, called the Governor's Guards.
On the arrival of the news of the above battle at New Haven, citizens
and soldiers, as if moved by a common impulse, assembled on the green.
Fired with indignation, as were others, Arnold proposed to head such
as would volunteer under him, and lead them to the more immediate
scene of action.
Such was the dispatch of preparation, that the following day, at the
head of sixty volunteers, he was ready to march.
After reaching Cambridge, for a time Arnold was employed in an
expedition against Ticonderoga. About the time of his return, congress
was contemplating a still more important and hazardous movement against
Canada, under General Schuyler. Believing that essential aid might be
rendered by the way of the Kennebec river, a detachment of troops was
made at Cambridge, the command of which was tendered to Arnold.
The troops detached for this service amounted to eleven hundred
men--ten companies of musket-men from New England, and three companies
of rifle-men from Virginia and Pennsylvania. The field officers were
Colonel Arnold, Lieutenant-colonels Greene and Enos, and Majors
Bigelow and Meigs. The afterwards-celebrated Daniel Morgan commanded
the riflemen. On the 18th of September, the troops sailed from
Newburyport, and rendezvoused at Fort Western, on the Kennebec,
opposite the present town of Augusta.
From this point they started, and their hardships and trials began.
No body of troops during the Revolutionary war, if indeed in the
annals of warfare, encountered greater obstacles, or endured more
suffering, than this. The distance traversed was about two hundred
miles, and nearly the whole of it was a howling wilderness.
[Illustration: Arnold's Expedition through the Wilderness.]
On the night of the 14th, Arnold with his men crossed the St. Lawrence;
and, ascending the same abrupt precipice which Wolfe had climbed before
him, formed his small corps on the heights, near the memorable Plains of
Abraham. But he soon discovered that neither the number nor condition of
his men would justify him in hazarding an action. Having spent a few
days on the heights, and summoned the town to surrender, without even a
response, he retired twenty miles above Quebec, to wait the arrival of
the troops which were to proceed by the western route, which were now
led by General Montgomery, who had succeeded General Schuyler, in
consequence of the illness of the latter.
On the 1st of December, Montgomery joined Arnold; and on the morning
of the 31st occurred the memorable assault upon Quebec, in which the
gallant and lamented Montgomery fell. Arnold, not less bold and
intrepid, had his leg-bone severely fractured, and was obliged to be
carried from the ground. The issue was disastrous to the Americans, as
is well known; about sixty being killed, and between three and four
hundred taken prisoners. Notwithstanding his wound and the serious
diminution of his force, Arnold maintained a blockade of the city
during a long and severe Canadian winter.
As a reward for his persevering efforts in conducting his troops
through the wilderness, and for his gallant conduct in the assault of
Quebec, congress promoted Arnold to the rank of brigadier-general.
[Illustration: General Lincoln.]
In February, 1777, congress appointed five additional major-generals.
According to the usual practice in reference to promotions, Arnold
would have been entitled to this honor; but those thus promoted were
all his juniors, and one of them, General Lincoln, was taken from the
militia. To a man like Arnold, ambitious of military glory, such a
neglect could not be otherwise than deeply wounding. In anticipation
of his mortified feelings, Washington addressed a kind and soothing
letter to him, virtually expressing his disapproval of the course of
procedure, and advising Arnold to demean himself with the magnanimity
of a soldier, in the hope that justice would still be done him, and
others, who were similarly neglected.
Meanwhile, Washington addressed to friends in congress a letter of
inquiry on the subject. To this it was replied, that as each state
claimed a number of general officers, proportioned to the troops it
furnished, and as Connecticut already had two, there existed no
vacancy for another. There was at least plausibility in the reason,
but it seems not to have satisfied Washington; much less could it be
expected to satisfy so sensitive and ambitious a man as Arnold. This
disappointment was probably among the causes which soured the mind of
the latter, and laid the foundation of those corrodings of the heart,
which in after-times led to the utter ruin of his reputation, and came
near effecting the ruin of his country.
But this was by no means the only ground of Arnold's complaint.
Construing the neglect of congress as an implied censure of his
military conduct in past times--and perhaps the inference was not
entirely without foundation--Arnold resolved to demand of congress an
examination into his conduct. With this object in view, he proceeded
to head-quarters, to solicit of Washington permission to proceed to
Philadelphia.
Just at the time he was passing through Connecticut, a British force,
consisting of two thousand troops, under the infamous General Tryon,
had landed at Compo, between Fairfield and Norwalk, for the purpose of
penetrating to Danbury, to destroy some public stores, which the
Americans had lodged there.
Arnold heard of this invasion; and, for the time, honorably foregoing
the object of his journey, and roused by that high military spirit
which in no small degree characterized him, he immediately turned his
course northward, for the purpose of aiding in repelling the foe.
A militia force of five hundred had been hastily collected by Generals
Wooster and Silliman. These, together with about one hundred
continental troops, Arnold overtook near Reading, on their march
towards Danbury. At Bethel, information was obtained that the town had
been fired, and the public stores destroyed. The next morning, the
generals divided their forces--General Wooster, with two hundred men,
falling in the rear of the enemy, while Arnold and Silliman, with five
hundred (their original force having been augmented), by a rapid
movement, took post in their front at Ridgefield.
[Illustration: Death of General Wooster.]
About eleven o'clock, General Wooster overtook the enemy, and attacked
them with great gallantry. Riding to the front of his troops, with a
design of inspiring them with appropriate courage, he cried: "Come on,
my boys! never mind such random shot." But scarcely had he uttered
the words, when a fatal ball pierced his side, and this gallant
general fell.
Meanwhile, Arnold having reached the north part of the long street at
Ridgefield, barricaded the road with carts, logs, hay, and earth,
presenting a formidable obstruction to the approaching enemy, and no
mean protection to the resisting force.
[Illustration: Arnold and the British Soldier.]
"At three o'clock the enemy appeared, marching in a solid column, and
they commenced a heavy fire as they advanced towards the breastwork: it
was briskly returned. For nearly a quarter of an hour, the action was
warm, and the Americans maintained their ground, by the aid of their
barricade, against four times their number, until the British column
began to extend itself, and to stretch around their flanks. This was a
signal for retreat. Arnold was the last man that remained behind. While
alone in this situation, a platoon of British troops, who had clambered
up the rocks on the left flank, discharged their muskets at him. His
horse dropped lifeless; and when it was perceived that the rider did
not fall, one of the soldiers rushed forward with a fixed bayonet,
intending to run him through. Arnold sat unmoved on his struggling
horse, watched the soldier's approach till he was near enough to make
sure his aim, then drew a pistol from his holsters, and shot him dead.
Seizing this critical opportunity, he sprang upon his feet, and escaped
unharmed. So remarkable an exhibition of cool and steady courage, in a
moment of extreme danger, has rarely been witnessed.
"He rallied his men, and continued to annoy the enemy in their progress.
Being rëinforced the next day, he hung upon their flanks and rear
throughout the whole march to their ships, attacking them at every
assailable point. In a skirmish near Compo, just before the British
embarked, the horse which he rode was shot through the neck, and on all
occasions he exposed himself with his accustomed intrepidity."
[Illustration: General Arnold.]
The heroic conduct of Arnold--periling life as a volunteer, and while
smarting under a sense of wrong--was duly appreciated wherever the
exploit was told. Congress, sensible of the merit of the achievement,
immediately promoted him to the rank of major-general; but instead of
ante-dating his commission, that he might take rank with those who
had been raised above him, they left him still _subordinate_ to them.
This was unfortunate, and even inconsistent. Arnold felt the neglect
with still deeper sensibility, and saw in it, as he imagined, an
undeniable proof that the charge of ingratitude which he had brought
against his country was well founded.
At length, his complaints were referred to the Board of War, and the
charges of his accusers were examined. The board reported that they
were satisfied with the character and conduct of General Arnold. This
report congress confirmed. Indeed, they went further, and presented
him with a horse properly caparisoned, in token of their approbation
of his gallant conduct in resisting the troops under General Tryon.
Had they added to this an equality of rank with the generals who had
been raised over him, Arnold would have been satisfied; but neglecting
this--and the cause was doubtless to be ascribed to the personal
influence of bitter enemies, who could not forget his arrogance and
presumption--he was chagrined, rather than flattered, by the tokens of
approbation he had received--and soured rather than pacified.
Added to this, Arnold was mortified and exasperated that his accounts
were not fully and promptly allowed by a committee appointed to audit
them. This they could not justly do without much qualification. They
were numerous and large, many debts incurred were without authority,
and vouchers were wanting. The consequence was a general suspicion
that Arnold intended to enrich himself, or meet his private
extravagant expenditures at the public expense.
Passing over several intervening events, especially the signal success
of General Gates in resisting the progress of General Burgoyne, during
which Arnold acted a part so heroic, as to be honored by Washington with
one of the three sets of epaulettes and sword-knots which had been
presented to him by a gentleman of France, we reach a signal event in
the life of this remarkable man--his appointment by Washington, in
consideration of his disabled condition, to the command of Philadelphia,
following the evacuation of that city by the British. The station was
honorable, and the duties, though delicate, were not severe.
Several circumstances, about this time, served to weaken his
affections for the patriotic cause. One was the report of specific
charges against him by a committee of congress, for acts oppressive
and unworthy his rank and station, on which he was tried, and ordered
to be reprimanded by the commander-in-chief.
In performing this duty, Washington exhibited as much mildness as the
case permitted. "Our profession," said he, "is the chastest of all.
The shadow of a fault tarnishes our most brilliant actions. The least
inadvertence may cause us to lose that public favor, which is so hard
to be gained. I reprimand you for having forgotten that, in proportion
as you had rendered your name formidable to our enemies, you should
have shown moderation towards our citizens. Exhibit again those
splendid qualities which have placed you in the rank of our most
distinguished generals. As far as it shall be in my power, I will
myself furnish you with opportunities for regaining the esteem which
you have formerly enjoyed."
The decision of the court, and the reprimand of Washington, mild and
delicate as it was, fell heavy on the excitable spirit of Arnold. A
burning revenge rankled in his bosom, and from this time--if his
traitorous purposes had not before been formed--he sought
opportunities to gratify his malice, and at the same time the sordid
passion of avarice, which had long held sway in his bosom.
Another circumstance, besides contributing to his expenses, operated
to separate his affections from the patriotic cause. He had married a
beautiful and accomplished lady, during his residence in Philadelphia,
a daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen, a family of distinguished rank; and
which, like others of a similar stamp in that city, was intimate with
Sir William Howe, Major Andre, and other British officers, during
their occupation of Philadelphia. This alliance brought Arnold, as a
matter of course, into associations with persons who were attached to
the royal cause, and who were ready to foster his prejudices, and
justify his complaints of ingratitude and persecution.
At length, he matured a plan--confined for a time to his own
bosom--dark, base, and traitorous--as it were the offspring of the
nether world.
To the accomplishment of this plan, it was necessary that he should be
appointed to the command of West Point, a fortress on the Hudson. With
consummate art, he accomplished his purpose; and, at the hands of
Washington, to whom he had been indebted more than to any other, for
standing by him as a shelter during his stormy life, he received the
appointment; soon after which, he repaired to the Highlands, and
established his head-quarters at Robinson's house, two or three miles
below West Point, on the opposite, or eastern bank of the river.
[Illustration: Major Andre.]
Previous to her marriage, Mrs. Arnold had been acquainted with Major
Andre, and had corresponded with him after that event, and after his
removal with the British forces to New York. Acquainted with this
correspondence, Arnold took the opportunity presented by it to
address, unknown to his wife, letters to Sir Henry Clinton, through
Andre, under the signature of _Gustavus_, and Andre replied under the
assumed name of _John Anderson_. This correspondence had been carried
on for months before Arnold's appointment to West Point. For a time,
Clinton was at a loss to imagine the real character behind the
curtain; but, at length, he became convinced that it could be no other
than Arnold himself. Hitherto, that general had treated _Gustavus_
with cautious indifference, but no sooner was Arnold promoted to the
command of West Point, than Clinton was ready to enter into
negotiation with him to surrender that fortress into the hands of the
British, and almost at any price which Arnold might choose to name.
The first plan devised for bringing about an interview between Arnold
and Andre failed, but a second proved more successful. The Vulture, a
sloop-of-war, with Colonel Robinson on board, came up the river about
the 16th of September. On their arrival at Teller's Point, Robinson,
who was a tory, and whose property had been confiscated by the state
of New York, addressed a letter to _General Putnam_, relating to the
recovery of his property, and forwarded it under cover of a letter to
Arnold by a flag-boat. Putnam was known not to be in that quarter, but
the letter to him served as a pretext to enable Robinson to
communicate a plan, by which an interview could be effected.
Arnold, by means of consummate art and duplicity, had engaged a Mr.
Smith, a man of respectable standing, to go on board the Vulture, and
convey a gentleman there to the American shore, who would impart
intelligence to him of the greatest importance to the American cause.
Smith had been employed in procuring intelligence from time to time
from New York for Arnold's predecessor at West Point, and at length
consented to perform the service solicited by Arnold; and, that his
family might not be privy to the transaction, they were removed to
Fishkill, under pretence of a visit to some friends.
Thus matters were arranged; and on the night of the 21st, Smith, with
two oarsmen, bribed to secresy by the promise of fifty pounds each,
left the American shore, and proceeded, as related in the commencement
of this account, to the Vulture.
Andre was expecting Arnold himself. Not finding him on board, but
receiving a letter putting him on his guard, and inviting him to return
in the boat, for a time he hesitated. Robinson was still firmer in the
opinion that he should not go. But, at length, the adventurous spirit of
Andre decided the point; and having cautiously concealed his uniform in
a great-coat, he stepped on board the boat, which immediately proceeded
towards the American shore. They landed at the foot of a mountain,
called Long Clove, about six miles below Stony Point.
Arnold was in the bushes, ready to receive the stranger. Smith had
expected to be present at the interview, and was not only
disappointed, but exasperated, in being refused. What a spot! what a
conference! what a deep and traitorous planning in midnight darkness!
The interview was long, and the patience of Smith was exhausted, but
more his fears were roused. The night was far spent, and the dawning
of the day was at hand. He now made known his apprehensions to the
midnight traitors; but as they had not perfected their business, Smith
and his oarsmen were allowed to retire.
No sooner were they gone, than Arnold proposed that Andre should
proceed with him to Smith's house, and leave the manner of his return
to future deliberation. This plan was replete with hazard; but no
alternative presenting itself, Andre reluctantly followed. Judge his
surprise, when, on approaching the American lines, a sentinel hailed
them, and demanded the countersign. Andre shuddered. Arnold gave the
sign, and they passed on. Andre was now, contrary to all his
determinations, within the American lines, on dangerous ground, where
his life and fortunes hung, as it were, upon the cast of a die.
Arnold and Andre reached Smith's about the dawn of day. Soon after, the
latter made his appearance. An incident now occurred, which added to the
anxiety of Andre. The sound of cannon broke upon them, which, on
proceeding to a window overlooking the river, was ascertained to be from
the American shore; and from the movements of the Vulture soon after
down the stream, it was inferred that the fire was against her. So it
proved. Believing her to lie in the river for no good purpose, Colonel
Livingston had directed a fire to be opened upon her, which caused the
movement observed. Andre now felt the delicacy of his situation still
more, and the difficulty of his return to the sloop to be still greater.
But the duties of his mission required attention, and to its
completion the plotters betook themselves. It was finally settled. The
British, on a given day, were to dispatch a fleet up the river with
the requisite troops: and Arnold, in order to render the seizure of
the fortress easy, was previously to withdraw the garrison, and
station them at different points in the neighborhood, in small
detachments. In consideration of the surrender, the traitor was to
receive a large amount of "British gold."
Having completed these nefarious negotiations, the manner in which
Andre should return, next engrossed their deliberations. This was a
question of difficult solution. Andre insisted on being put on board
the Vulture; Smith was unwilling to run the hazard. Before the
question was decided, Arnold left for West Point, giving to Andre
passports accommodated to the manner in which it might finally be
decided that he should return.
Andre spent the day in an upper room at Smith's--a long and anxious
day. Towards its close, he urged Smith to take him on board the
Vulture; but to his surprise and distress, the former peremptorily
refused, but offered to accompany him on horseback to some point of
safety. No other alternative presenting itself, Andre consented; and,
having changed his military coat for a citizen's dress, over which
throwing his great-coat, they departed.