LIFE AND TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD
By Jared Sparks.
Boston:
Hilliard, Gray, And Co.
1835.
CONTENTS.
Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold
Arnold's Birth and Early Life
He begins his Military Career • Capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point
Expedition through the Wilderness to Quebec
Operations in Canada • Affair of the Cedars • Retreat from Montreal
Arnold censured for the Seizure of Goods at Montreal • Appointed to the Command of a Fleet on Lake Champlain • Naval Combat
Stationed in Rhode Island • Superseded in his Rank by Congress • Complains of Injustice and ill Treatment • His Bravery in the Affair of Danbury • Commands at Philadelphia
Joins the northern Army • The tragical Death of Jane McCrea near Fort Edward • Arnold commands an Expedition to Fort Schuyler • Rejoins the main Army on the Hudson • The Battles of Behmus's Heights
Takes Command in Philadelphia • Proposes joining the Navy • Charges against him by the Council of Pennsylvania • His Plan for a new Settlement in the western Part of New York • His Trial by a Court-martial
His expensive Style of Living and pecuniary Embarrassments • First Ideas of betraying his Country • Application to the French Ambassador • Marriage • Takes Command at West Point
Progress of the Conspiracy on the Part of the British Commander • Major John André
Various Schemes for effecting an Interview between Arnold and André • Their Meeting within the American Lines
Outlines of the Plan for surrendering West Point • Major André passes in Disguise through the American Posts • His Capture at Tarrytown
André makes known his true Character • His Letter to Washington • Escape of Arnold to the Enemy • Washington arrives at West Point
Detection of Arnold's Treason • André removed to West Point and thence to Tappan • His Examination by a Board of Officers
Ineffectual Attempts to procure the Release of Major André • His Execution • The Captors of André • Joshua H. Smith • Captain Nathan Hale
Narrative of Arnold's Plot communicated by Sir Henry Clinton to the Ministry • Arnold in New York • His Expedition against Virginia and New London
Arnold sails for England • Anecdotes • His Residence at St. John's, and in the West Indies • His Death
[PREFACE.]
It is the chief object of the following narrative to give an account of the treason of Arnold, its causes, the plans for carrying it forward, and its final issue. In executing this design, it was necessary to touch upon the events of his previous life; and, as many of these have a real interest in themselves, and others a direct bearing on the subject, it is believed no apology for introducing them will be required.
The author has of course consulted all the printed books and documents, which he could find; and among others he acknowledges his obligation to M. de Marbois' Complot d'Arnold et de Sir Henry Clinton, published several years ago in Paris, and soon afterwards translated by Mr. Walsh for the second volume of the American Register. The parts of M. de Marbois' book, which he wrote from personal knowledge and observation, have a special value; some of the other parts would have been varied, if his materials had been more abundant and exact.
Besides printed sources of information, the author has been fortunate in procuring the use of a large number of original papers in manuscript, which have not before been inspected. In the public archives of London he was allowed to peruse the entire correspondence, between the British commander in America and the ministry, concerning Arnold's defection; particularly a very ample narrative of all the transactions, dated nine days after the death of André, methodically drawn up, and signed by Sir Henry Clinton. This correspondence exhibits in a clear view the British side of the question.
Among General Washington's manuscripts are also original materials, including the papers that were laid before the board of general officers to whom Andre's case was submitted, and the drafts of letters and other papers left behind by Arnold when he escaped. Arnold's letters to Congress are curious, and indicate the workings of his mind while maturing his plot. The same may be said of some of his miscellaneous letters, which have fallen into the author's hands.
For that portion of the narrative in which the agency of André is described, the principal authority has been the records of the trial of Joshua H. Smith. This person was arraigned before a court-martial, upon the charge of having been an accomplice with Arnold, but his guilt was not proved. The trial lasted for nearly a month. Numerous witnesses were examined, and among others the captors of André. All the testimony was taken down in detail, and the papers have been preserved. They are voluminous and important.
Several gentlemen now living, who were personally acquainted with circumstances attending the treason of Arnold, have made valuable communications, either written or verbal, for the present work.
The author will only add, that he has everywhere aimed at strict accuracy in his statements, and verified them whenever it was possible by reference to manuscript authorities. If his labors should be found to have contributed any thing to illustrate an interesting point of history, his end will be answered and his wishes gratified.
LIFE AND TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD
[CHAPTER I.]
Arnold's Birth and Early Life.
Among the first settlers and proprietors of Rhode Island was William Arnold, a name of some note in the local annals of his time. He had three sons, Benedict, Thomas, and Stephen. The eldest, that is, Benedict Arnold, succeeded Roger Williams as president of the colony under the first charter, and he was at different times governor under the second charter during a period of fifteen years; a proof of the respect in which he was held by his contemporaries.
The family spread out into several branches. One of these was established at Newport, from which place two brothers, Benedict Arnold and Oliver Arnold, emigrated to Norwich in Connecticut, the former about the year 1730, or perhaps a little earlier, the latter several years afterwards. They were coopers by trade, but Benedict discontinued that occupation soon after his removal to Norwich, and engaged in commerce. He made one or two voyages to England, but was principally concerned in navigation to the West Indies, and was owner of the vessels he commanded. Having accumulated means sufficient to enable him to change this pursuit for one which he liked better, he became a merchant, and for several years carried on an extensive business at Norwich. He was a man of suspicious integrity, little respected, and less esteemed. Prosperity deserted him, and by degrees he sank into intemperance, poverty, and contempt.
In the mean time he had married Mrs. Hannah King, a widow lady, whose name before her first marriage was Waterman. Her family connexions were highly respectable, and she is represented as having been eminent for her amiable temper, piety, and Christian virtues. The children of this second marriage were three sons and three daughters. Benedict, the eldest, died in infancy. The same name was given to the next son. Of the six children, only he and his sister Hannah survived the years of childhood.
Benedict Arnold, the second son above named, and the subject of this notice, was born at Norwich, on the 3d of January, 1740. As his father's affairs were then in a successful train, it is probable he enjoyed the advantage of as good schools as the town or its vicinity afforded.
For a time he was under the tuition of Dr. Jewett, a teacher of some celebrity at Montville. There is no evidence, however, that his acquirements reached beyond those usually attained in the common schools. While yet a lad he was apprenticed to two gentlemen by the name of Lathrop, who were partners as druggists in a large establishment at Norwich, and alike distinguished for their probity, worth, and the wide extent of their business. Being allied by a distant relationship to the mother of the young apprentice, they felt a personal interest in his welfare, especially as no benefit to him was now to be hoped from the example or guidance of his father.
It was soon made obvious to these gentlemen, that they had neither an agreeable nor an easy task before them. To an innate love of mischief, young Arnold added an obduracy of conscience, a cruelty of disposition, an irritability of temper, and a reckless indifference to the good or ill opinion of others, that left but a slender foundation upon which to erect a system of correct principles or habits. Anecdotes have been preserved illustrative of these traits. One of his earliest amusements was the robbing of birds' nests, and it was his custom to maim and mangle young birds in sight of the old ones, that he might be diverted by their cries. Near the druggist's shop was a schoolhouse, and he would scatter in the path broken pieces of glass taken from the crates, by which the children would cut their feet in coming from the school. The cracked and imperfect phials, which came in the crates, were perquisites of the apprentices. Hopkins, a fellow apprentice and an amiable youth, was in the habit of placing his share on the outside of the shop near the door, and permitting the small boys to take them away, who were pleased with this token of his good will. Arnold followed the same practice; but, when he had decoyed the boys, and they were busy in picking up the broken phials, he would rush out of the shop with a horsewhip in his hand, call them thieves, and beat them without mercy. These and similar acts afforded him pleasure. He was likewise fond of rash feats of daring, always foremost in danger, and as fearless as he was wickedly mischievous. Sometimes he took corn to a gristmill in the neighbourhood; and, while waiting for the meal, he would amuse himself and astonish his playmates, by clinging to the arms of a large water-wheel and passing with it beneath and above the water.
Weary of the monotonous duties of the shop, and smitten with the attractions of a military life, he enlisted as a soldier in the army without the knowledge of his friends when he was sixteen years old, and went off with other recruits to Hartford. This caused such deep distress to his mother, that the Reverend Dr. Lord, pastor of the church to which she belonged, and some other persons, took a lively interest in the matter, and succeeded in getting him released and brought back. Not long afterwards he ran away, enlisted a second time, and was stationed at Ticonderoga and different places on the frontiers; but being employed in garrison duty, and subjected to more restraint and discipline than were suited to his restless spirit and unyielding obstinacy, and seeing no prospect of an opportunity for gratifying his ambition and love of bold adventure, he deserted, returned to Norwich, and resumed his former employment. When a British officer passed through the town in pursuit of deserters, his friends, fearing a discovery, secreted him in a cellar till night, and then sent him several miles into the country, where he remained concealed till the officer was gone.
During the whole of his apprenticeship he gave infinite trouble to Dr. Lathrop, in whose family he resided; and his conduct was a source of perpetual anxiety and grief to his mother. He was her only surviving son, her husband was lost to himself and to the world, and it was natural that the maternal hopes and fears of a lady of her sensibility and excellence should be powerfully wrought upon, by such wayward exhibitions of character in one, to whom she was bound by the strongest and tenderest ties, and on whom she relied as the support of her declining years. Borne down with the weight of present affliction, her forebodings of the future must have been melancholy and fearful. Heaven relieved her from the anguish of witnessing her son's career of ambition without virtue, of glory tarnished with crime, and of depravity ending in infamy and ruin. She died before he reached the age of manhood.
After he had served out his apprenticeship, Arnold left Norwich and commenced business as a druggist in New Haven. He was assisted by his former masters in setting up his new establishment, which at first was on a small scale; but, by his enterprise and activity, his business was extended, and to the occupation of an apothecary he added that of a general merchant. At length he took up the profession of a navigator, shipped horses, cattle, and provisions to the West Indies, and commanded his own vessels. Turbulent, impetuous, presuming, and unprincipled, it was to be expected that he would raise up a host of enemies against him, and be involved in many difficulties. He fought a duel with a Frenchman somewhere in the West Indies, and was engaged in frequent quarrels both at home and abroad. His speculations ended in bankruptcy, and under circumstances, which, in the opinion of the world, left a stain upon his honesty and good faith. He resumed his business, and applied himself to it with his accustomed vigor and resource, and with the same obliquity of moral purpose, hazard, and disregard of public sentiment, that had always marked his conduct.
On one occasion, just after he had returned from a West India voyage, a sailor who had been with him spread a report, that he had smuggled contraband goods and got them ashore without the knowledge of a custom-house officer. Arnold sought out the sailor, beat him severely, and compelled him to leave the town and take a solemn oath, that he would never enter it again. Within two or three days, however, the sailor was found in the streets; and Arnold collected a small party, seized him, and took him to the whipping-post, where about forty lashes were inflicted upon him with a small cord, and he was conducted a second time out of town. The affair was noised abroad, and excited the indignation of the populace. The sailor came back, and the case was submitted to Colonel Wooster and another gentleman, who, as Arnold said in his public vindication, "were of opinion, that the fellow was not whipped too much, and gave him fifty shillings damages only." He grounded this summary mode of punishment on what he considered the infamous nature of the offence, and its tendency to injure the community by casting suspicion upon honest dealers and obstructing the course of trade.
An exploit is remembered, which was characteristic of his rashness and courage. While driving cattle on board a vessel, which he was freighting for a voyage, a refractory ox refused obedience. He grew furious, ran off, and set his pursuers at defiance. Arnold mounted a fleet horse, overtook the ox, seized the enraged animal by a tender part of the nostrils, and held him in that position till he was subdued and secured.
Arnold's father died about the time he settled in New Haven, and his sister, Hannah Arnold, being the only remaining individual of the family, joined him at that place. He was early married at New Haven to a lady by the name of Mansfield. They had three sons, Benedict, Richard, and Henry. The first died young in the West Indies. He was a violent, headstrong youth, and it is supposed he came to an untimely end. He had a commission in the British service after the revolution. There is a letter written by Hannah Arnold, in which, after mentioning that this nephew had gone to the West Indies, she says, "He went entirely contrary to the wishes of his father; what has been his fate, God only knows, but my prophetic heart forbodes the worst." All accounts agree in extolling the accomplishments of this lady, her rare endowments of mind, her refinement, delicacy, and other qualities of female excellence. Several of her letters, which I have seen, fully justify this tribute to her good name, which dwelt on the lips of those that knew her, and which the voice of tradition has perpetuated. Her ardent and unceasing attachment to her brother, at the same time that it proves the depth of her own feelings, may argue the existence of better traits in his domestic character, than would be inferred from his public conduct. His sister was his devoted friend, his adviser, and a watchful guardian over his family and his interests. She adhered to him through good and evil report, and never forsook him, till he proved himself unworthy even of a sister's love. She lived many years after the war, at one time in Troy on Hudson's River, and afterwards near York, in Upper Canada, where it is believed she closed her days. Her two nephews, Richard and Henry, resided with her in Troy, and were employed in mercantile affairs. They likewise removed to Canada, where they received lands from the British government. The wife of Arnold died at New Haven about the time that the war began.
[CHAPTER II.]
He begins his Military Career.—Capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point.
There were in Connecticut two companies of militia called the Governor's Guards, and organized in conformity to an act of the legislature. One of these companies belonged to New Haven, and in March, 1775, Arnold was chosen to be its commander. This company consisted of fifty-eight men. When the news of the battle of Lexington reached New Haven, the bells were rung, and great excitement prevailed among the people. Moved by a common impulse, they assembled on the green in the centre of the town, where the Captain of the Guards took occasion to harangue the multitude, and, after addressing himself to their patriotic feelings, and rousing their martial spirit by suitable appeals and representations, he proposed to head any number of volunteers that would join him, and march with them immediately to the scene of action. He ended his address by appointing a time and place for all such to meet, and form themselves into a company.
When the hour arrived, sixty volunteers appeared on the ground, belonging mostly to the Guards, with a few students from the College. No time was lost in preparing for their departure, and on the morning of the next day they were ready to march. The company was destitute of ammunition, which the rulers of the town refused to supply, not being satisfied as to the expediency of taking up arms, or of abetting such a movement, without the previous direction or countenance of a higher authority. This was a point, which Arnold was not in the humor to discuss. He drew out his volunteers in martial array, and despatched a message to the Selectmen, stating that, unless the keys of the magazine were delivered to him immediately, he would break it open by force. This threat was effectual, and perhaps it was not reluctantly heeded by the Selectmen themselves, as it afforded an apology for their acquiescence. A sense of responsibility often excites quicker fears, than the distant and uncertain consequences of a rash action. Being thus provided, and participating the ardor of their leader, the company hastened forward by a rapid march to Cambridge, the head-quarters of the troops, who were collecting from various parts to resist any further aggressions from the British army in Boston.
At the same time a few individuals at Hartford, in Connecticut, where the legislature of the colony was then sitting, secretly formed a plan to surprise and capture Ticonderoga. It is probable, that Arnold had received a hint of this project before he left New Haven; for, as soon as he arrived in Cambridge, he waited on the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, and proposed the same scheme, explaining its practicability, portraying in vivid colors the advantages that would result from it, and offering to take the lead of the enterprise, if they would invest him with proper authority, and furnish the means. The committee eagerly embraced his proposal, and on the 3d of May commissioned Benedict Arnold as a colonel in the service of Massachusetts, and commander-in-chief of a body of troops not to exceed four hundred, with whom he was to proceed on an expedition to subdue and take Fort Ticonderoga. The men were to be enlisted for this purpose in the western parts of Massachusetts, and the other colonies bordering on those parts. The Colonel was moreover instructed, after taking possession of Ticonderoga, to leave a small garrison there sufficient for its defence, and to bring to Cambridge such of the cannon, mortars, and stores, as he should judge would be serviceable to the army. In the siege of Boston, now begun by the Provincial forces, the cannon and mortars were extremely wanted, and the hope of obtaining them was a principal motive with the Committee for favoring the expedition.
By a vote of the Committee of Safety, the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts was likewise desired to supply Colonel Arnold with one hundred pounds in cash, two hundred pounds' weight of gun-powder, the same quantity of leaden balls, one thousand flints, and ten horses, for the use of the colony. He was authorized to procure stores and provisions for his troops, and to draw on the Committee for the sums expended in the purchase of them.
The temperament of Colonel Arnold admitted no delay after matters had been thus arranged, and he made all haste to the theatre of operations. He arrived at Stockbridge, on the frontier of Massachusetts, within three days of the time of receiving his commission. To his great disappointment he there ascertained, that a party of men from Connecticut had already gone forward, with the design of raising the Green Mountain Boys, and making an assault upon the fortress. The laurels, which he had gathered in anticipation, seemed now to be escaping from his grasp, and he waited not a moment longer on the way than was requisite to engage a few officers to enlist troops and follow him.
A small party of men from Connecticut, and another from Berkshire County under Colonel Easton, had proceeded to Bennington, and joined themselves to Ethan Allen at the head of a still larger number of his mountaineers. They had all marched towards Lake Champlain. Arnold overtook them at Castleton, about twenty-five miles from Ticonderoga. A council of war had just been held, in which the command of the combined forces was assigned to Colonel Ethan Allen, and a plan of operations was fully agreed upon. All things were in readiness for pushing forward the next morning. At this juncture Arnold made his appearance, introduced himself to the officers, drew his commission from his pocket, and in virtue of it claimed the command of the expedition.
This bold assurance in a person, with whom the troops were not acquainted, who had taken no part in calling them together, and who pretended to act under an authority, which none of them recognised, was received with equal astonishment and indignation. Arnold had come accompanied by one attendant only. It is true, there was a small body of volunteers from Massachusetts in the party; but these had turned out under Colonel Easton, at the request of the committee from Connecticut, who superintended the expedition, and by whom all the troops were to be paid. The Green Mountain Boys constituted much the larger portion of the whole number, and they were too warmly attached to their officers, and particularly to their chivalrous leader and early champion, Ethan Allen, to be prevailed upon to move a step further if Arnold's pretensions were allowed. Confusion and symptoms of mutiny among the men ensued, and seemed to threaten a defeat of the enterprise. For once the discretion of Arnold got the better of his ambition, and he yielded to a necessity, which he could not control. He assented to a compromise, and agreed to join the party as a volunteer, maintaining his rank but exercising no command.
Harmony being restored, the party advanced to Ticonderoga, took the fort by surprise on the morning of the 10th of May, and made the whole garrison prisoners. Ethan Allen, as the commander, entered the fort at the head of his men. Arnold, ever foremost in scenes of danger and feats of courage, assumed the privilege of passing through the gate at his left hand. Thus the love of glory, common to them both, was gratified; and the pride of Arnold was soothed, after the wound it had received by the disappointment of his ambitious hopes.
It soon appeared, however, that the aims of so aspiring and restless a spirit were not to be easily frustrated, and that the conciliatory acquiescence at Castleton was no more than the evidence of a truce, and not the pledge of a permanent peace. A few hours after the surrender of the garrison, Arnold again insisted on taking the command of the post and all the troops, affirming that no other person present was vested with an authority equal to that conferred by his commission. To prevent these fresh seeds of dissension from taking root, the committee from Connecticut interfered, and by a formal written instrument appointed Colonel Allen commandant of Ticonderoga and its dependencies, till further orders should be received from the colony of Connecticut or the Continental Congress. Unsustained by a single voice, and deeming it an idle show of power to issue orders, which no one would obey, Arnold again made a virtue of necessity by submission, contenting himself with a protest, and with sending a catalogue of his grievances to the legislature of Massachusetts.
But it was not in his nature to be idle. Four days after the capture of the fortress, about fifty men, who had been enlisted in compliance with the orders given by him on the road, joined him with two captains at Ticonderoga. These were properly under his command. They came by the way of Skenesborough, and brought forward the schooner taken at that place, which belonged to Major Skene. He manned this vessel, proceeded immediately down the Lake to St. John's, where he surprised the garrison, taking a sergeant and twelve men prisoners, and captured a King's sloop with seven men. After destroying five batteaux, seizing four others, and putting on board some of the valuable stores from the fort, he returned to Ticonderoga. Colonel Allen went upon the same expedition with one hundred and fifty men in batteaux from Crown Point, but, as the batteaux moved with less speed than the schooner, he met Arnold returning about fifteen miles from St. John's.
Thus, within the space of eight days, the once formidable posts of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, renowned in former wars, with all their dependencies on Lake Champlain, fell into the hands of the Americans. A reinforcement of more than four hundred British and Canadians very shortly afterwards arrived at St. John's, and it was rumored that water-craft would be brought from Montreal and Chamblee, and an expedition would proceed up the Lake to attack the forts. This gave Arnold an opportunity of separating from Allen. Having some experience in seamanship, he chose to consider himself the commander of the navy on the Lake, consisting of Major Skene's schooner, the King's sloop, and a small flotilla of batteaux. With these he left Ticonderoga and took post at Crown Point, resolved there to make a stand and meet the enemy whenever they should approach. The number of his men was now increased to about one hundred and fifty.
His first care was to arm his vessels, having previously commissioned a captain for each. In the sloop he fixed six carriage guns and twelve swivels, and in the schooner four carriage guns and eight swivels. In compliance with the orders of the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, which accompanied his commission, he likewise busied himself in sending off some of the cannon and mortars from Crown Point, with the intention that they should be transported by way of Lake George to the army at Cambridge. Abundant supplies of pork and flour were received from Albany, collected and sent forward by the committee of that town.
While these things were in train, letters were written and messages despatched from Ticonderoga to the legislatures of Massachusetts and Connecticut. Full details of all the proceedings were communicated, in which the conduct of Arnold was set forth in no favorable light. A man's enemies seldom have the acuteness to discover his merits, or the charity to overlook his faults, and are as little disposed to proclaim the former as to conceal the latter. Arnold's presumption and arrogance were themes of censure; his zeal and energy in contributing to effect the main objects of the expedition were passed over unnoticed. These representations by degrees impaired the confidence of the Massachusetts legislature in their colonel, and caused them to regard with indifference his complaints and demands.
Another reason, also, operated to the same end. When it was known that Connecticut had gone foremost in the enterprise, and when the doubtful issue of so bold a step was more calmly considered, the government of Massachusetts seemed not reluctant to relinquish both the honor and charge of maintaining the conquered posts. It was finally agreed between the parties, and approved by the Continental Congress, that Connecticut should send up troops, and an officer to take the general command, and that such forces as were on the spot from Massachusetts, or as might afterwards be enlisted for that service, should be under the same officer.
Arnold sent a messenger to Montreal and Caghnawaga, for the purpose of ascertaining the designs of the Canadians and Indians, and the actual force of General Carleton. About the middle of June he wrote to the Continental Congress, communicating all the facts he had obtained, and expressing a conviction that the whole of Canada might be taken with two thousand men. He even proposed a general plan of operations, and offered to head the expedition and be responsible for consequences. It seems he was personally acquainted with the country, and had several friends in Montreal and Quebec, which places he had probably visited in prosecuting his mercantile affairs. Certain persons in Montreal, he said, had agreed to open the gates, as soon as an American force should appear before the city; and he added, that General Carleton had under his command only five hundred and fifty effective men, who were scattered at different posts. Such were his representations, and they were, doubtless, nearly accurate; but Congress were not yet prepared to second his views or approve his counsels.
In the mean time the legislature of Massachusetts delegated three of their number as a committee to proceed to Lake Champlain, and inquire into the state of affairs in that quarter. The members of this committee were instructed to ascertain in what manner Colonel Arnold had executed his commission, and, after acquainting themselves with his "spirit, capacity, and conduct," they were authorized, should they think proper, to order his immediate return to Massachusetts, that he might render an account of the money, ammunition, and stores, which he had received, and of the debts he had contracted in behalf of the colony. If he remained, he was in any event to be subordinate to Colonel Hinman, the commanding officer from Connecticut. The committee were likewise empowered to regulate other matters, relating to the supplies and arrangements of the Massachusetts troops.
They found Colonel Arnold at Crown Point, acting in the double capacity of commandant of the fortress and admiral of his little fleet, consisting of the armed sloop, schooner, and batteaux, which he had contrived to keep together at that place. At his request, they laid before him a copy of their instructions. It may easily be imagined in what manner these would affect such a temperament as that of Arnold. He was exceedingly indignant, and complained of being treated with injustice and disrespect, in which he was perhaps not entirely in the wrong. He said that he had omitted no efforts to comply with the intentions of the Committee of Safety, signified in their commission to him; that an order to inquire into his conduct, when no charge had been exhibited against him, was unprecedented; that the assumption to judge of his capacity and spirit was an indignity; that this point ought to have been decided before they honored him with their confidence; that he had already paid out of his own pocket for the public service more than one hundred pounds, and contracted debts on his personal credit in procuring necessaries for the army, which he was bound to pay, or leave the post with dishonor; and finally, that he would not submit to the degradation of being superseded by a junior officer. After he had thus enumerated his grievances, and his warmth had a little subsided, he wrote to the committee a formal letter of resignation.
He next discharged the men, who were engaged to serve under him, which was a signal for a new scene of difficulties. Some of them, who had become attached to their leader, espoused his cause, and gave tokens of dissatisfaction, which it may be presumed he would not strive either by persuasion or authority to pacify. The pay of all the troops was in arrears, and the rumor went abroad, that, since the colonel had resigned and the troops were disbanded, their claims would not be received by the government. They began to be turbulent and mutinous; but the committee at last succeeded in quieting them, by assurances that every man should be paid, and by embodying under Colonel Easton all such as chose to reenlist. *
* A more extended account of the capture of Ticonderoga, and the subsequent operations on Lake Champlain may be found in Sparks's Life of Ethan Allen, contained in the Library of American Biography, Vol. I. pp. 270-288.
Having nothing more to do on the frontiers. Arnold made haste back to Cambridge, where he arrived early in July, uttering audible murmurs of discontent, and complaints of ill treatment against the legislature of Massachusetts. His accounts were allowed and settled, although, if we may judge from the journals, some of his drafts presented from time to time by the holders were met with a reluctance, which indicated doubt and suspicion.
[CHAPTER III.]
Expedition through the Wilderness to Quebec.
Arnold was now unemployed, but a project was soon set on foot suited to his genius and capacity. General Washington had taken command of the army at Cambridge. The Continental Congress had resolved that an incursion into Canada should be made by the troops under General Schuyler. To facilitate this object, a plan was devised about the middle of August, by the Commander-in-chief and several members of Congress then on a visit to the army during an adjournment of that body, to send an expedition to Quebec through the eastern wilderness, by way of the Kennebec River, which should eventually cooperate with the other party, or cause a diversion of the enemy, that would be favorable to its movements. Arnold was selected to be the conductor of this expedition, and he received from Washington a commission of colonel in the Continental service. The enterprise was bold and perilous, encompassed with untried difficulties, and not less hazardous in its execution, than uncertain as to its results. These features, repelling as they were in themselves, appeared attractive in the eyes of a man, whose aliment was glory, and whose spirit was sanguine, restless, and daring. About eleven hundred effective men were detached and put under his command, being ten companies of musketmen from New England, and three companies of riflemen from Virginia and Pennsylvania. The field-officers, in addition to the chief, were Lieutenant-Colonel Christopher Greene, afterwards the hero of Red Bank, Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Enos, and Majors Bigelow and Meigs. At the head of the riflemen was Captain Daniel Morgan, renowned in the subsequent annals of the war.
These troops marched from Cambridge to Newburyport, where they embarked on board eleven transports, September 18th, and sailed the next day for the Kennebec River. Three small boats were previously despatched down the coast, to ascertain if any of the enemy's ships of war or cruisers were in sight. At the end of two days after leaving Newbury port, all the transports had entered the Kennebec, and sailed up the river to the town of Gardiner, without any material accident. Two or three of them had grounded in shoal water, but they were got off uninjured. A company of carpenters had been sent from Cambridge, several days before the detachment left that place, with orders to construct two hundred batteaux at Pittston, on the bank of the river opposite to Gardiner. These were now in readiness, and the men and provisions were transferred to them from the shipping. They all rendezvoused a few miles higher up the river at Fort Western, opposite to the present town of Augusta.
Here the hard struggles, sufferings, and dangers were to begin. Eleven hundred men, with arms, ammunition, and all the apparatus of war, burthened with the provisions for their sustenance and clothing to protect them from the inclemencies of the weather, were to pass through a region uninhabited, wild, and desolate, forcing their batteaux against a swift current, and carrying them and their contents on their own shoulders around rapids and cataracts, over craggy precipices, and through morasses, till they should reach the French settlements on the Canada frontiers, a distance of more than two hundred miles.
The commander was not ignorant of the obstacles with which he had to contend. Colonel Montresor, an officer in the British army, had passed over the same route fifteen years before, and written a journal of his tour, an imperfect copy of which had fallen into the hands of Arnold. The remarks of Montresor afforded valuable hints. He came from Quebec, ascending the Rivers Chaudière and Des Loups, crossing the highlands near the head-waters of the Penobscot, pursuing his way through Moosehead Lake, and entering the Kennebec by its eastern branch. He returned up the western branch, or Dead River, and through Lake Megantic into the Chaudière. This latter route was to be pursued by the expedition. Intelligence had likewise been derived from several St. Francis Indians, who had recently visited Washington's camp, and who were familiar with these interior regions. Two persons had been secretly despatched towards Quebec as an exploring party, from whom Arnold received a communication at Fort Western. They had proceeded no farther than the headwaters of the Dead River, being deterred by the extravagant tales of Natanis, called "the last of the Norridgewocks," who had a cabin in that quarter, and who was then probably in the interest of the enemy, though he joined the Americans in their march. Colonel Arnold had moreover been furnished with a manuscript map and a journal by Mr. Samuel Goodwin of Pownalborough, who had been a resident and surveyor in the Kennebec country for twenty-five years.
From these sources of information Colonel Arnold was as well prepared, as the nature of the case would admit, for the arduous task before him. While the preparations were making at Fort Western for the departure of the army, a small reconnoitring party of six or seven men was sent forward in two birch canoes under the command of Lieutenant Steel, with orders to go as far as Lake Megantic, or Chaudière Pond as it was sometimes called, and procure such intelligence as they could from the Indians, who were said to be in that neighborhood on a hunting excursion; and also Lieutenant Church with another party of seven men, a surveyor, and guide, to take the exact courses and distances of the Dead River. Next the army began to move in four divisions, each setting off a day before the other, and thus allowing sufficient space between them to prevent any interference in passing up the rapids and around the falls. Morgan went ahead with the riflemen; then came Greene and Bigelow with three companies of musketeers; these were followed by Meigs with four others; and last of all was Enos, who brought up the rear with the three remaining companies.
Having seen all the troops embarked, Arnold followed them in a birch canoe, and pushing forward he passed the whole line at different points, overtaking Morgan's advanced party the third day at Norridgewock Falls.
At a short distance below these falls, on the eastern bank of the river, was a wide and beautiful plain, once the site of an Indian village, belonging to a tribe from whom the falls took their name, and memorable in the annals of former days as the theatre of a tragical event, in which many of the tribe were slain in a sudden attack, and among them Father Ralle, the venerable and learned missionary, who had dwelt there twenty-six years. The foundations of a church and of an altar in ruins were still visible, the only remaining memorials of a people, whose name was once feared, and of a man who exiled himself from all the enjoyments of civilization to plant the cross in a savage wilderness, and who lost his life in its defence. Let history tell the story as it may, and let it assign such motives as it may for the conduct of the assailants, the heart of him is little to be envied, who can behold unmoved these melancholy vestiges of a race extinct, or pass by the grave of Ralle without a tear of sympathy or a sigh of regret.
But we must not detain the reader upon a theme so foreign from the purpose of our narrative. Justice claimed the tribute of this brief record. At the Norridgewock Falls was a portage, where all the batteaux were to be taken out of the river and transported a mile and a quarter by land. The task was slow and fatiguing. The banks on each side were uneven and rocky. It was found that much of the provisions, particularly the bread, was damaged. The boats had been imperfectly made, and were leaky: the men were unskilled in navigating them, and divers accidents had happened in ascending the rapids. The carpenters were set to work in repairing the most defective boats. This caused a detention, and seven days were expended in getting the whole line of the army around the falls. As soon as the last batteau was launched in the waters above, Arnold betook himself again to his birch canoe with his Indian guide, quickly shot ahead of the rear division, passed the portage at the Carratunc Falls, and in two days arrived at the Great Carrying-place, twelve miles below the junction of the Dead River with the eastern branch of the Kennebec. Here he found the two first divisions of the army.
Thus far the expedition had proceeded as successfully as could have been anticipated. The fatigue was extreme, yet one man only had been lost by death. There seem to have been desertions and sickness, as the whole number now amounted to no more than nine hundred and fifty effective men. They had passed four portages, assisted by oxen and sleds where the situation of the ground would permit. So rapid was the stream, that on an average the men waded more than half the way, forcing the batteaux against the current. Arnold wrote, in a letter to General Washington, "You would have taken the men for amphibious animals, as they were great part of the time under water." He had now twenty-five days' provisions for the whole detachment, and expressed a sanguine hope of reaching the Chaudière River in eight or ten days.
In this hope he was destined to be disappointed. Obstacles increased in number and magnitude as he advanced, which it required all his resources and energy to overcome. The Great Carrying-place extended from the Kennebec to the Dead River, being a space of fifteen miles, with three small ponds intervening. From this place the batteaux, provisions, and baggage were to be carried over the portages on the men's shoulders. With incredible toil they were taken from the waters of the Kennebec, and transported along an ascending, rugged, and precipitous path for more than three miles to the first pond. Here the batteaux were again put afloat; and thus they continued by alternate water and land carriage, through lakes, creeks, morasses, and craggy ravines, till they reached the Dead River.
As some relief to their sufferings, the men were regaled by feasting on delicious salmon-trout, which the ponds afforded in prodigious quantities. Two oxen were also slaughtered and divided among them. A block-house was built at the second portage, at which the sick were left; and another near the bank of the Kennebec, as a depository for provisions ordered up from the commissary at Norridgewock, and intended as a supply in case a retreat should be necessary.
While the army was crossing the Great Carrying-place, Arnold despatched two Indians with letters to gentlemen in Quebec and to General Schuyler. They were accompanied by a white man, named Jakins, who was to proceed down the Chaudière to the French settlements, ascertain the sentiments of the inhabitants, procure intelligence, and then return. It appeared afterwards, that the Indians betrayed their trust. The letters never reached the persons to whom they were addressed, but were doubtless put into the hands of the Lieutenant-Governor of Canada. The Indian, who had them in charge, named Eneas, was afterwards known to be in Quebec.
The Dead River presented for many miles a smooth surface and gentle current, interrupted here and there by falls of short descent, at which were carrying-places. As the batteaux were moving along this placid stream, a bold and lofty mountain appeared in the distance, whose summit was whitened with snow. When approached, the river was discovered to pursue a very meandering course near its base; and, although the fatigue of the men was less severe than it had been, yet their actual progress was slow. In the vicinity of this mountain Arnold encamped for two or three days, and, as report says, raised the American flag over his tent. The event has been commemorated. A hamlet since planted on the spot, which ere long will swell to the dignity of a town, is at this day called the Flag Staff. The mountain has been equally honored. Tradition has told the pioneers of the forest, and repeated the marvel till it is believed, that Major Bigelow had the courage as well as the leisure to ascend to its top, with the hope of discovering from this lofty eminence the hills of Canada and the spires of Quebec. From this supposed adventure it has received the name of Mount Bigelow. Its towering peaks, looking down upon the surrounding mountains, are a beacon to the trappers and hunters, who still follow their vocation in these solitudes, notwithstanding the once-coveted beaver has fled from their domain, and the field of their enterprise has been ominously contracted by the encroaching tide of civilization.
From this encampment a party of ninety men was sent back to the rear for provisions, which were beginning to grow scarce. Morgan with his riflemen had gone forward, and Arnold followed with the second division. For three days it rained incessantly, and every man and all the baggage were drenched with water. One night, after they had landed at a late hour and were endeavouring to take a little repose, they were suddenly roused by the freshet, which came rushing upon them in a torrent, and hardly allowed them time to escape, before the ground on which they had lain down was overflowed. In nine hours the river rose perpendicularly eight feet. Embarrassments thickened at every step. The current was everywhere rapid; the stream had spread itself over the low grounds by the increase of its waters, thereby exposing the batteaux to be perpetually entangled in the drift-wood and bushes; sometimes they were led away from the main stream into smaller branches and obliged to retrace their course, and at others delayed by portages, which became more frequent as they advanced.
At length a disaster happened, which was near putting an end to the expedition. By the turbulence of the waters seven batteaux were overset, and all their contents lost. This made such a breach upon the provisions, and threw such a gloom over the future, that the bravest among them was almost ready to despond. They were now thirty miles from the head of the Chaudière River. It was ascertained, that the provisions remaining would serve for twelve or fifteen days. A council of war was called, at which it was decided that the sick and feeble should be sent back, and the others press forward.
Arnold wrote to Colonel Greene and Colonel Enos, who were in the rear, ordering them to select such a number of their strongest men as they could supply with fifteen days' provisions, and to come on with them, leaving the others to return to Norridgewock. Enos misconstrued the order, or chose not to understand it. He retreated with his whole division, consisting of three companies, and marched back to Cambridge. *
* Colonel Enos was tried by a court-martial, after his arrival at head-quarters, and acquitted on the ground of a want of provisions. But the true state of the case was not understood, as no intelligence on the subject had been received from Arnold. The trial was hastened, because Enos's commission in the army, as first organized, would expire at the end of the year, and it was supposed he could not be tried under his new commission. He certainly disobeyed the order of his commander, nor was the plea of a deficiency of provisions admissible. The same quantity of provisions, that would be consumed by three companies in returning to the settlements on the Kennebec, would have served part of them for that purpose, and another part for fifteen days in marching to the Chaudière. He was ordered to divide his men in such a manner as to accomplish both these objects. Although acquitted by the court-martial, he either imagined, or had the sagacity to perceive, that his conduct was not satisfactory to General Washington, and soon left the army.—See Washington's Writings, Vol. III. p. 164.
After despatching this order, Arnold hastened onward with about sixty men under Captain Hanchet, intending to proceed as soon as possible to the inhabitants on the Chaudière, and send back provisions to meet the main forces. The rain changed into snow, which fell two inches deep, thus adding the sufferings of cold to those of hunger and fatigue. Ice formed on the surface of the water in which the men were obliged to wade and drag the boats. Finally the highlands were reached, which separated the eastern waters from those of the St. Lawrence. A string of small lakes, choked with logs and other obstructions, had been passed through near the sources of the Dead River, and seventeen falls had been encountered in ascending its whole distance, around which were portages. The carrying-place over the highlands was a little more than four miles. A small stream then presented itself, which conducted the boats by a very crooked course into Lake Megantic, the great fountainhead of the Chaudière River.
Here were found Lieutenants Steel and Church, who had been sent forward a second time from the Great Carrying-place with a party of men to explore and clear paths at the portages. Here also was Jakins, returned from the settlements, who made a favorable report in regard to the sentiments of the people, saying they were friendly and rejoiced at the approach of the army. Lake Megantic is thirteen miles long and three or four broad, and surrounded by high mountains. The night after entering it, the party encamped on its eastern shore, where was a large Indian wigwam, that contributed to the comfort of their quarters.
Early the next morning Arnold despatched a person to the rear of the army, with instructions to the advancing troops. He then ordered Captain Hanchet and fifty-five men to march by land along the margin of the lake, and himself embarked with Captain Oswald, and Lieutenants Steel and Church with thirteen men in five batteaux and a birch canoe, resolved to proceed as soon as possible to the French inhabitants, and send back provisions to meet the army.
In three hours they reached the northern extremity of the lake, and entered the Chaudière, which carried them along with prodigious rapidity on its tide of waters boiling and foaming over a rocky bottom. The baggage was lashed to the boats, and the danger was doubly threatening, as they had no guides. At length they fell among rapids; three of the boats were overset, dashed to pieces against the rocks, and all their contents swallowed up by the waves. Happily no lives were lost, although six men struggled for some time in the water, and were saved with difficulty. This misfortune, calamitous as it was, Arnold ascribes in his Journal to a "kind interposition of Providence"; for no sooner had the men dried their clothes and reembarked, than one of them who had gone forward cried out, "A fall ahead," which had not been discovered, and over which the whole party must have been hurried to inevitable destruction.
It is needless to say, that after this experience they were more cautious. Rapids and falls succeeded each other at short intervals. The birch canoe met the fate of the three batteaux, by running upon the rocks. Sometimes the boats were retarded in their velocity by ropes extended from the stem to the bank of the river. Two Penobscot Indians assisted them over a portage of more than half a mile in length. Through its whole extent the stream, raised by the late rains, was rough, rapid, and dangerous; but the party was fortunate in losing no lives and in advancing quickly. On the third day after leaving Lake Megantic, being the 30th of October, Arnold arrived at Sertigan, the first French settlement, four miles below the junction of the River Des Loups with the Chaudière, and seventy miles from the lake by the course of the stream.
His first care was to relieve his suffering troops, some of whom were already fainting with hunger, exhausted with fatigue, and overcome with toils and privations, to which they had never been accustomed. * He immediately sent back several Canadians and Indians with flour and cattle, who met the troops marching through the woods near the bank of the river, all their boats having been destroyed by the violence of the rapids. The whole army arrived within four or five days, emerging from the forests in small and detached parties, and greeting once more with joy unspeakable the habitations of civilized men. They were received in a friendly manner by the inhabitants, who supplied their wants with hospitable abundance, and seemed favorably inclined to the objects of the expedition, not being yet heartily reconciled to the burden of a foreign yoke, however light in itself, which the adverse fortunes of war had doomed them to wear since the brilliant victory of Wolfe on the Heights of Abraham.
* So extreme was the famine for the last three or four days of the march, that dogs were killed and greedily devoured. This fact was stated by General Dearborn, who had been a captain in the expedition, in a letter to President Allen of Bowdoin College. Moose-skin moccasins were boiled to procure from them such nourishment as they afforded.
Meantime Arnold proceeded down the river to conciliate the attachment of the people, and make further preparations for the march of his army. Before leaving Cambridge, he had received ample instructions for the regulation of his conduct, drawn up with care and forethought by the Commander-in-chief, and containing express orders to treat the Canadians on all occasions as friends, to avoid every thing that should give offence or excite suspicion, to respect their religious ceremonies and national habits, to pay them liberally and promptly for supplies and assistance, to punish with severity any improper acts of the soldiery; in a word, to convince them that their interests were involved in the results of the expedition, and that its ultimate purpose was to protect their civil liberties and the rights of conscience.
He was also furnished with printed copies of a manifesto, signed by General Washington, intended for distribution among the people, explaining the grounds of the contest between Great Britain and America, and encouraging them to join their neighbors in a common cause by rallying around the standard of liberty. These instructions were strictly observed by the American troops, and had their desired influence. The impression was lasting. To this day the old men recount to their children the story of the "descent of the Bostonians," as the only great public event that has ever occurred to vary the monotonous incidents of the sequestered and beautiful valley of the Chaudière.
Ten days after reaching the upper settlements, Arnold arrived at Point Levy opposite to Quebec. His troops followed, and were all with him at that place on the 13th of November. About forty Indians had joined him at Sertigan and on the march below. He had ascertained that his approach was known in Quebec, and that all the boats had been withdrawn from the eastern side of the St. Lawrence to deprive him of the means of crossing. Eneas, the savage whom he had sent with a letter to General Schuyler, and another to a friend in Quebec, had found his way to the enemy, and given up his despatches to some of the King's officers. He pretended to have been taken prisoner; but treachery and falsehood are so nearly allied, that Eneas had the credit of both.
Between thirty and forty birch canoes having been collected, Arnold resolved to make an immediate attempt to cross the river. The first division left Point Levy at nine o'clock in the evening and landed safely on the other side, having eluded a frigate and sloop stationed in the St. Lawrence on purpose to intercept them. The canoes returned, and by four in the morning five hundred men had passed over at three separate times, and rendezvoused at Wolfe's Cove. Just as the last party landed, they were discovered by one of the enemy's guard-boats, into which they fired and killed three men. It was not safe to return again, and about one hundred and fifty men were left at Point Levy.
No time was now to be lost. Headed by their leader they clambered up the precipice at the same place, where Wolfe sixteen years before had conducted his army to the field of carnage and of victory. When the day dawned, this resolute band of Americans, few in number compared with the hosts of the British hero, but not less determined in purpose or strong in spirit, stood on the Plains of Abraham, with the walls of Quebec full in their view. They were now on the spot, to which their eager wishes had tended from the moment they left the camp of Washington; and, after encountering so many perils and enduring such extremities of toil, cold, and hunger with unparalleled fortitude, it was a mortifying reflection, that scarcely a glimmering hope of success remained. Troops had recently come to Quebec from Sorel and Newfoundland, and such preparations for defence had been made, that it would have been madness to attempt a serious assault of the town with so small a force.
The strength of the garrison, including regulars and militia within the walls, and the mariners and sailors on board the ships, was little short of eighteen hundred men. But two thirds of these were militia, many of whom were Canadians supposed to be friendly to the Americans, and ready to join with them whenever they should enter the town. This expectation, indeed, had been one of the chief encouragements for undertaking the enterprise against Quebec. To make an experiment upon the temper of the inhabitants, Arnold drew up his men within eight hundred yards of the walls, and gave three cheers, hoping by this display to bring out the regulars to an open action on the plain. The gates would thus be unclosed, and, if the people in the town were as favorably disposed as had been represented, there might thus be an opportunity of forming a junction and acting in concert, as circumstances should dictate. This has been considered as a ridiculous and unmeaning parade on the part of the American commander, but he doubtless had some good grounds for the manouvre from the intelligence brought to him by persons, whose wishes corresponded with his own. At any rate, the garrison chose not to accept the challenge in any other manner, than by discharges of cannon through the embrasures on the walls.
A specimen of military etiquette, which was next resorted to, may be looked upon in a more questionable light. By the rules of war it is customary, when a town is about to be stormed, for the assailing party to send in a summons demanding a surrender and proffering conditions. That every thing might be done in due form, Arnold wrote a letter to Lieutenant-Governor Cramahé, the British commander in Quebec, calling on him in the name of the American Congress to give up the city, and threatening him with disastrous consequences, if the surrender should be delayed. This idle piece of formality might have been spared; it could only excite the derision of the enemy, who knew the precise strength of the assailants.
The Canadians, however, and particularly the people in the surrounding country, were much alarmed. The phenomenon of an army descending from a wilderness, which had hitherto been considered impassable, except by very small parties with light birch canoes, easily transported over the portages, filled them with wonder and apprehension. Report had magnified the number of the invaders, and the imagination gave ready credence to the tales that were told of the prowess and valor of men, who had performed a feat so daring in its attempt, and extraordinary in its success. It was even said, that these men were cased in iron, and that their power of body was equal to their courage and fortitude. *
* This idea gained currency from the curious circumstance of mistaking the sound of a word. Morgan's riflemen were clothed in linen frocks, the common uniform of that description of troops. When they first appeared emerging from the woods, the Canadians said they were vêtus en toile; but, as the intelligence spread, the word toile, linen, was changed into tôle, sheet-iron.
These fears were of short duration. The reality was soon made manifest, and Arnold himself was the first to discover his weakness and danger. Three days after his formidable summons, he had leisure to examine into the state of the arms and ammunition of his troops, and to his surprise he found almost all the cartridges spoiled, there being not more than five rounds to a man, and nearly one hundred muskets unfit for use. Some of the men were invalids, and many deficient in clothing and other necessaries. At the same time he received advice from his friends in town, that a sortie was about to be made with a force considerably superior to his own. A retreat was the only expedient that remained. The men left at Point Levy had already crossed the river and joined him, and with his whole force he marched up the St. Lawrence to Point-aux-Trembles, eight leagues from Quebec, intending to wait there the approach of General Montgomery from Montreal.
[CHAPTER IV.]
Operations in Canada.—Affair of the Cedars.—Retreat from Montreal.
On the same day that Arnold made this retreat, Governor Carleton arrived at Quebec. He had escaped in the night from the British fleet, which was stopped by the American batteries at Sorel, and thence passed in a small armed vessel down the river. By an official return at Point-aux-Trembles, the entire force of the detachment, officers and privates, consisted of six hundred and seventy-five men, being somewhat more than half the number that marched from Cambridge. Arnold despatched a messenger to General Montgomery, then at Montreal, describing his necessitous condition for want of clothing, and a full supply was immediately forwarded to him. By the capture of the small fleet at Sorel under General Prescott, the Americans had gained command of the river above Quebec; and as all the British posts in Canada had been taken, except the capital, this was now the grand object to be attained. Montgomery made all haste to join Arnold for that purpose; and, leaving a small garrison at Montreal, he embarked about three hundred men, several mortars, and Captain Lamb's company of artillery, on board some of the armed vessels taken at Sorel, and went down the river to Point-aux-Trembles. The command now devolved on General Montgomery, and the two detachments marched immediately to the Heights of Abraham, where they arrived on the 4th of December. Although the effective force of the Americans was less than a thousand men, and the number bearing arms in the city, including British, militia, and Canadians, amounted to eighteen hundred, yet it was resolved to hazard an assault.
Colonel Arnold had written to General Washington from Point-aux-Trembles, that it would require twenty-five hundred men to reduce Quebec. Calmly viewed through the medium of historical evidence, with a full knowledge of collateral facts and subsequent events, a resolution for an immediate assault may now seem rash and ill advised. But General Montgomery relied on the lukewarmness of the inhabitants, and their readiness to abandon the British standard whenever they should see a reasonable hope of protection from the assailants. He likewise believed, that the large extent of the works rendered them incapable of being defended at all points, and that in this respect the seeming strength of the enemy was in reality an element of weakness. He moreover derived a renovated confidence from the disposition of his officers and troops, who seconded with promptness and zeal the views of their leader. Notwithstanding the weight of these motives, and of others that might have had their influence, it must ever be lamented, that a spirit so elevated and generous, fraught with the noblest principles of honor and chivalrous feeling, was doomed to be sacrificed in a conflict so utterly unequal and hopeless of success. Leonidas died not a braver death, nor with a self-devotion more worthy to place him among the first of heroes and of patriots.
But we are not now concerned with the history of events, any farther than to sketch very briefly the part acted in them by the subject of the present narrative. General Montgomery found Arnold, as he said, "active, intelligent, and enterprising." A quarrel happened between Arnold and one of his captains, which drew three companies into a mutinous combination; but the danger was checked by the decision and firmness of the commander, who discovered the captain to be in the wrong, and maintained subordination. Several attempts were made to send a summons into the town; but Governor Carleton forbade all communication, and no flag was suffered to approach the walls. Meantime preparations for an attack were carried on. A battery was opened, from which five cannon and a howitzer were brought to bear upon the town, but with very little effect. There were slight skirmishes in the suburbs, houses were burnt, and a few men killed.
Different plans of attack had been meditated, and it was at last resolved to make a general assault upon the lower town. Montgomery was to proceed with one division of the army along the margin of the St. Lawrence around the base of Cape Diamond, and Arnold with his detachment by the way of St. Roque. Each commander was to act according to circumstances, and both parties were to unite if possible at the eastern extremity of the town. At five o'clock in the morning of the 31st of December they began their march. Arnold had already passed through the suburb of St. Roque, and approached unperceived a picketed two-gun battery or barrier across the street. It was attacked by Captain Lamb's artillery, but was bravely defended for about an hour, when it was carried, and the Americans pushed forward in the midst of a violent snow-storm, till they arrived at a second barrier. Several lives had been lost at the first barrier. Arnold was shot through the leg. The bone was fractured, and he was obliged to be taken to the general hospital; where he learned that Montgomery had been killed in forcing a barrier at Cape Diamond, and that his troops had retreated. A very severe contest was kept up by his own party at the second barrier for three hours, without being able to force their way beyond it. While yet in the heat of action, they were surrounded by a party, that issued from one of the gates of the city in their rear, by which their retreat was cut off, and between three and four hundred were taken prisoners. The killed and wounded were about sixty.
This affair being thus unhappily terminated, the command fell again upon Colonel Arnold. By an exact return two days after the action, the whole number of troops under him was a little short of eight hundred, including Colonel Livingston's regiment of Canadians, which amounted to about two hundred. With this mere shadow of an army he resolved to maintain a blockade of the city, till reinforcements should arrive. The winter had now set in with its usual-severity, and a scene of long and dismal suffering from cold and privations appeared in prospect. "Many of the troops are dejected," he said in a letter to General Wooster, "and anxious to get home, and some have actually set off; but I shall endeavour to continue the blockade, while there are any hopes of success." Fortunately the besieged were nowise inclined to make excursions beyond the walls, being contented to wait the opening of spring for a relief from England, which might then certainly be expected. Nor was the investiture at any time so complete, as not to admit occasional intercourse with the country, by which the most pressing want, that of wood, was supplied. Pickets and guards, it is true, were stationed in every direction; but, with a force so feeble and scattered, little more could be done, than to keep up the formality of a blockade. Why the enemy did not sally, and attack the American camp, has never been explained. It is probable the governor did not think it prudent to put the loyalty of the inhabitants to a test, which the contingencies of events might turn to a disadvantage, especially as he felt secure in remaining quiet.
As soon as the news of the storming of Quebec reached Congress, they promoted Arnold to the rank of brigadier-general, as a reward not less of his gallant conduct on that occasion, than of his extraordinary enterprise and military address in conducting his army through the wilderness. Additional troops were likewise immediately ordered to Canada. During the winter a few companies, and fragments of companies, from New-Hampshire and Massachusetts, and part of Warner's regiment from Vermont, arrived at the encampment, having walked on snow-shoes, carried their own provisions, and braved all the perils of frost and exposure incident to such a march in so rigorous a climate.
With these means the Americans kept their ground, undisturbed by the enemy, till spring. Breastworks and fortifications were constructed of snow, which, by being rolled into a mass and saturated with water, immediately congealed into solid ramparts of ice. The prisoners within the city were kindly treated by Governor Carleton. He sent out Major Meigs for their clothes and baggage, allowed them to be supplied with money and other conveniences by their friends, and, after they were released, they bore a unanimous testimony to the humanity and good usage extended to them by the British commander. The remains of General Montgomery were interred with suitable marks of respect. * In a journal kept by an English officer during the siege, it is said that ninety-four of the prisoners were Europeans, who petitioned in a body to join a regiment of Royal Emigrants in the British service.
* When General Montgomery was killed, he had in his pocket a watch, which Mrs. Montgomery was very desirous to obtain. This was made known to General Arnold, and he applied to Governor Carleton, offering any price for the watch, which he might choose to demand. Carleton immediately sent it out, but would suffer nothing to be received in return.
After several of them had deserted, by leaping from the walls and sliding down the precipice on the surface of the snow, the remainder were put in confinement and retained as prisoners. *
* This journal is curious, and may be found in the second volume of Smith's History of Canada.
General Wooster had passed the winter at Montreal in a state of repose, which his countrymen were not prepared to expect from a man, who had gained the reputation of a bold and active officer in the last war. On the 1st of April he appeared at Quebec, and, being superior in rank, succeeded to the command. At this time the number of troops had increased to two thousand eight hundred and fifty-five, of whom about eight hundred were sick, mostly of the small-pox. A cannonade was opened upon the city from a battery of six guns, two howitzers, and two small mortars, on the Heights of Abraham, and another of three guns and one howitzer, at Point Levy. Preparations were begun for pushing the siege with vigor, but at this time an accident happened to General Arnold by the falling of his horse upon his wounded leg, which bruised it so badly, that he was laid up for a fortnight. He likewise complained of the coldness and reserve of General Wooster, who neither asked his advice nor took his counsel; and his temper was not formed to brook neglect, nor indeed patiently to act a second part. It is moreover to be considered, that he and General Wooster were townsmen and neighbors, and with that class of his fellow-citizens he had commonly found means to be at points. The condition of his wound was an apology for asking leave of absence, which was readily granted, and he retired to Montreal.
Here again he was at the head of affairs. Montreal was in the hands of the Americans under a military government; and, there being no officer present equal to himself in rank, he of course assumed the command. For the first six weeks he had little to do; but the catastrophe at the Cedars, in which nearly four hundred men surrendered to the enemy by a disgraceful capitulation, and a hundred more were killed or taken in a brave encounter, called him out to meet the approaching foe, and avenge the barbarous murders and other cruelties, which had been committed by the savages on the prisoners. He hastened to St. Anne's, at the western part of the Island of Montreal, with about eight hundred men, where he arrived in the afternoon of the 26th of May. At this moment the enemy's batteaux were seen taking the American prisoners from an island about a league distant from St. Anne's, and proceeding with them to the main land on the opposite side of the St. Lawrence. Arnold's batteaux were still three or four miles behind, making their way slowly up the rapids, having fallen in the rear of the troops, who marched along the shore. They did not reach St. Anne's till nearly sunset. Meantime a small party of Caghnawaga Indians returned, whom Arnold had sent over the river in the morning with a message to the hostile savages, demanding a surrender of the American prisoners, and threatening in case of a refusal, or if any murders were committed, that he would sacrifice every Indian that should fall into his hands, and follow them to their towns, which he would destroy by fire and sword. The Indians sent back an answer by the Caghnawagas, that they had five hundred prisoners in their power, and that if Arnold presumed to land and attempt a rescue, they would immediately put them all to death, and give no quarter to any that should be captured.
This threat, however, did not deter Arnold from pursuing his object. He filled the boats with his men, and ordered them to row to the island, where the prisoners had been confined. He there found five American soldiers, naked and almost famished, who informed him that all the other prisoners had been taken to Quinze Chiens except two, who, having been unwell, were inhumanly butchered. From this island he advanced towards Quinze Chiens about four miles below; but, when the boats came within three quarters of a mile of the shore, the enemy began to fire upon them with two brass field-pieces, and soon afterwards with small arms. The boats rowed near the shore, but without returning a shot; and, as it was now become dark, and Arnold was unacquainted with the ground, and his men were much fatigued, he thought it prudent to return to St. Anne's.
He immediately called a council of war, and it was unanimously determined, that an attack should be made early the next morning. The enemy's forces, consisting of forty British troops, one hundred Canadians, and five hundred Indians, were commanded by Captain Forster; and the principal officer among the American prisoners was Major Sherburne. A little after midnight Lieutenant Park arrived at St. Anne's with a flag, bringing articles for an exchange of prisoners, which had been entered into between Major Sherburne and Captain Forster. This commander had assured Major Sherburne and the other American officers, that he could not control the Indians, and that all the prisoners would inevitably be murdered as soon as an attack should begin. The prisoners were crowded together in the church of Quinze Chiens, where they were guarded, and would fall an easy prey to the fury of the savages. In this distressing dilemma, revolting as it was to every principle of honor and justice, the dictates of humanity pointed to but one course. Major Sherburne accepted such terms as were imposed upon him; and the treaty was sent to be confirmed by General Arnold, with the positive declaration on the part of Captain Forster, that the fate of his companions in arms depended on his acquiescence. By the terms of the capitulation, it was agreed that the prisoners should be released on parole, in exchange for British prisoners of equal rank taken by the Americans. Six days were allowed for sending the prisoners to St. John's within the American lines. Four American captains were to go to Quebec and remain as hostages, till the exchange should be effected. Reparation was to be made for all property, that had been destroyed by the Continental troops. Such was the tenor of the articles as modified and approved by General Arnold. The British commander had at first insisted, that the American prisoners should not again take up arms, and that they should pledge themselves not to give any information by words, writing, or signs, which should be prejudicial to his Majesty's service. These terms were rejected without discussion. Fifteen Canadians, who were with the American troops at the Cedars, were not included in the treaty, as Captain Forster declared that he had positive orders to that effect. *
* A different account of this affair is given by General Wilkinson, (Memoirs, Vol. I. p. 46,) but the above narrative is taken from a letter written by General Arnold a few hours after the capitulation was signed, and directed to the Commissioners from Congress then at Montreal. These circumstances invest it with every claim to be considered strictly accurate.
Congress refused to ratify this convention, except on such conditions as the British government would never assent to; and a general indignation was expressed at the subterfuge of barbarity by which it was extorted, so contrary to the rules of civilized warfare, and so abhorrent to the common sympathies of human nature. Since the compact was executed in due form, however, and by officers invested with proper authority, General Washington considered it binding, and expressed that opinion in decided language to Congress. In a military sense this may be presumed to have been a right view of the matter, and perhaps in the long run it was politic. The stain of ignominy, which must for ever adhere to the transaction, may be regarded as a punishment in full measure to the aggressing party, and as holding up an example, which all who value a good name, or have any respect for the universal sentiments of mankind, will take care not to imitate. General Howe wrote a complaining and reproachful letter to Washington on the proceedings of Congress; but the actual sense of the British authorities may be inferred from the fact, that the subject was allowed to drop into silence, and the hostages were sent home on parole.
Arnold returned with his detachment to Montreal. Disasters began to thicken in every part of Canada. The small-pox had made frightful ravages among the troops and was still increasing, provisions and every kind of supplies were wanting, the inhabitants were disgusted and alienated, having suffered from the exactions, irregularities, and misconduct of the Americans, who seized their property for the public service, and paid them in certificates and bills, which were worthless; reinforcements had come in so sparingly, that it was now impossible to withstand the force of the enemy, augmented by a large body of veteran troops recently arrived from Europe; confusion reigned every where, and a heavy gloom hung over the future. At this crisis, Franklin, Chase, and Carroll, arrived at Montreal as a committee from Congress. The state of affairs was already too desperate to be relieved by the counsels of wisdom, or the arm of strength. The American troops under General Thomas, driven from Quebec and pursued up the St. Lawrence, took post at Sorel. General Sullivan succeeded to the command; a last attempt was made to hold the ground, but it was more resolute in purpose than successful in the execution; the whole army was compelled precipitately to evacuate Canada, and retire over the Lake to Crown Point.
Montreal was held till the last moment. Arnold then drew off his detachment, with no small risk of being intercepted by Sir Guy Carleton, and proceeded to St. John's, making, as General Sullivan wrote, "a very prudent and judicious retreat, with an enemy close at his heels." He had two days before been at St. John's, directed an encampment to be enclosed, and ordered the frame of a vessel then on the stocks to be taken to pieces, the timbers numbered, and the whole to be sent to Crown Point. General Sullivan soon arrived with the rear of his retreating army, and preparations were made for an immediate embarkation. To this work Arnold applied himself with his usual activity and vigilance, remaining behind till he had seen every boat leave the shore but his own. He then mounted his horse, attended by Wilkinson his aid-de-camp, and rode back two miles, when they discovered the enemy's advanced division in full march under General Burgoyne. They gazed at it, or, in military phrase, reconnoitred it, for a short time, and then hastened back to St. John's. A boat being in readiness to receive them, the horses were stripped and shot, the men were ordered on board, and Arnold, refusing all assistance, pushed off the boat with his own hands; thus, says Wilkinson, "indulging the vanity of being the last man, who embarked from the shores of the enemy." The sun was now down, and darkness followed, but the boat overtook the army in the night at Isle-aux-Noix.
[CHAPTER V.]
Arnold censured for the Seizure of Goods at Montreal.—Appointed to the Command of a Fleet on Lake Champlain.—Naval Combat.
It being necessary that General Schuyler should be made acquainted, as soon as possible, with the present condition of the army, and the progress of the enemy, General Arnold consented to go forward for that purpose. His knowledge of all that had passed in Canada, during the last seven months, enabled him to communicate the requisite intelligence in a more satisfactory manner than it could be done in writing, and to add full explanations to the despatches of the commander. He found General Schuyler in Albany, at which place General Gates arrived in a few days, proceeding by order of Congress to take command of the northern army. Meantime General Sullivan retreated to Crown Point. Schuyler, Gates, and Arnold repaired together to that post.
It was expected that Sir Guy Carleton, as soon as he could provide water-craft sufficient, would make all haste up the Lake and commence an attack. A council of general officers was convened, who, after mature deliberation, resolved to abandon Crown Point, retire to Ticonderoga, strengthen that post, and make it the principal station of defence. This measure was thought extraordinary by General Washington and by Congress. It was looked upon as giving up a position, formidable in itself and by artificial works, which afforded advantages at least for checking the enemy, if not for repelling their farther approach. The members of the council were unanimous; but many of the field-officers partook of the prevailing sentiment, although on the spot, and signed a remonstrance against the decision of their superiors. A proceeding so unmilitary, and so little in accordance with sound discipline, was of course disregarded, but dissatisfaction and ill feelings were excited on both sides. Schuyler and Gates defended the resolve of the council in letters to Washington and Congress, and in the end no one doubted its wisdom. Crown Point had from circumstances acquired a name in former wars, which had magnified it in public opinion much beyond its real importance as a military post. It was moreover impolitic to divide the troops, few in number compared with those of the enemy, by attempting to fortify and defend two positions within fifteen miles of each other.
The army was accordingly withdrawn to Ticonderoga, and every preparation was there begun for meeting the enemy, whenever they should make their appearance.
While these things were going on, General Arnold brought up another matter, which scattered new seeds of dissension in the camp. Colonel Hazen had been his second in command at Montreal, and, from the elements of Arnold's character, this fact might perhaps lead to a natural inference, that a quarrel would not be an unlikely event. The particulars are these. When it became evident that Canada would be evacuated, Arnold seized goods belonging to merchants in Montreal, which he said were intended for the public service. Certificates were given to the owners, who were to be paid according to their invoices by the United States. In many cases, however, they were taken away in such a hurry, that there was no time for making out a list of the articles, and the only form of delivery was the owner's name written on each parcel. Arnold sent the goods across the country to Chamblee, with the intention of having them forwarded to St. John's, and thence by water to Ticonderoga. He instructed Colonel Hazen, who then commanded at Chamblee, to take charge of them, and prevent their being damaged. Hazen, either not liking the manner in which the goods had been obtained, or from personal hostility to Arnold, refused for some time to meddle with them, and left them exposed to the weather, piled in heaps on the bank of the river; and at last, when he took them in charge, they were guarded in so negligent a manner, that the packages were broken open and many of them plundered.
The owners, not contented to part with their goods upon terms so vague and uncertain, followed the army to Crown Point. When they found what ravages had been committed on their property, they presented invoices and claimed pay for the full amount. The blame fell upon General Arnold, as the first mover in the business, and he threw it back upon Hazen, who had refused to obey his order and take care of the goods. The result was a court-martial, by which Colonel Hazen was tried for disobedience of orders. While the trial was in progress, the court declined accepting the testimony of Major Scott, one of Arnold's principal witnesses, on the ground of his being a party concerned, since he was the agent, who received the goods at Montreal and conducted them to Chamblee. This slight was too much for the hot blood of Arnold, and he wrote a disrespectful letter to the court in the form of a protest. To save their honor, the court demanded an apology, which was promptly refused in a tone of insult by their antagonist, with a broad intimation, that he should be ready at a proper time to give any or all of the gentlemen of the court satisfaction on that score; or, in other words, the letter was a sort of challenge to the whole court, either in the corporate or individual capacity of the members. This was so gross a violation of military rule, that the court had now no other resort than an appeal to General Gates, the commander-in-chief. The case presented difficulties which seemed to embarrass him, as Arnold was much in his favor, and he had resolved to appoint him to the command of the fleet then preparing to meet the enemy on the Lake. In short, he dissolved the court-martial, and thus abetted the conduct of Arnold. In explaining this step to Congress, he said that he had been obliged to act "dictatorially" when the court demanded the arrest of General Arnold, adding, "The United States must not be deprived of that excellent officer's services at this important moment." Justice might well complain, when policy could content itself with such a reason for an arbitrary act.
The court passed judgment before they separated, although informally, and acquitted Colonel Hazen with honor. This was an implied censure upon Arnold; but, protected as he was by his superior, the affair received no further investigation. His military popularity sustained him as an officer, but his character suffered essentially in the public estimation. It was more than suspected, that his private interest was chiefly consulted in seizing the goods, and it seems to have been supposed, that the seizure was upon his own authority. In these respects it is probable he was too harshly judged. He wrote a letter to General Schuyler from Montreal, while in the act of taking the goods, acquainting him with the fact, and adding that he was thus directed by the commissioners from Congress. He also wrote to General Sullivan from Chamblee, informing him of the damaged condition in which he found the packages at that place, and complaining of the disobedience and neglect of Colonel Hazen. These letters are now extant, and evidently prove, that he was not practising any secret manouvre in the removal of the goods, or for retaining them in his own possession.
It must nevertheless be conceded, that his mode of taking the property without leaving in the owner's hands invoices of the different articles, and certificates of having received them, could not be justified, nor could it have been intended by the commissioners. They could mean nothing more, than such things as would serve to Supply the army either with provisions or clothing, and these upon a fair security to the owners; for, by the articles of capitulation entered into with General Montgomery, the citizens were to be maintained in a free possession of their goods and effects of every kind, whereas packages containing silks, and other articles equally inapplicable to the object in view, were carried off indiscriminately. These circumstances, and his conduct to the court-martial, produced impressions, which the subsequent developements of his character contributed nothing to efface or diminish; and, viewed in the most favorable light, his honesty can be screened only at the expense of his judgment and delicacy.
I have dwelt the longer on this transaction, because it was the first important link in the chain of incidents, which led to his final ruin. Another, somewhat akin to it, occurred nearly at the same time. There had been a quarrel at Quebec between Arnold and Major Brown, who had marched to that place with General Montgomery. This enmity had its origin as early as the capture of Ticonderoga by Ethan Allen, when Brown was an officer under Colonel Easton, and of course opposed to the pretensions of Arnold on that occasion. From Quebec letters were written by Arnold to some of the members of Congress, containing severe reflections on his conduct, and open charges against him of having plundered the baggage and property of prisoners taken in Canada. When these particulars were made known to Brown by his friends, he demanded from General Wooster, and afterwards from General Thomas, a court of inquiry; but through the machinations of Arnold he was defeated in his purpose, till after the evacuation of Canada. He then applied in person to Congress for redress, and directions were sent to the commander in the northern department to grant a court of inquiry. Colonel Brown, for such was now his title, renewed his application to General Gates at Ticonderoga, but with no better success than before. As in the case of the court-martial, Gates chose to exercise a dictatorial authority, and protect his favorite.
Nothing more was done till the end of the campaign, when Colonel Brown presented his application in another form, demanding an arrest of General Arnold on a series of charges, in which he was accused of numerous misdemeanors and criminal acts during the course of his command. General Gates replied, that he would lay the petition before Congress. Being thus baffled in his attempts to obtain justice through the proper channel, Colonel Brown published a narrative of the whole affair, introducing his charges against Arnold, and commenting upon his conduct with much severity, and indeed with a warmth that indicated too great a degree of excited feeling. The result will be seen hereafter. It is a little remarkable, that, in the midst of all these censures, Arnold never solicited a court of inquiry on his own part, by which, if they were unjust and without foundation, he might at once have silenced his enemies, and which it would be natural to expect under such circumstances from a man, possessing a quick sense of honor, who was conscious of his innocence.
As soon as the army had retreated to Crown Point and Ticonderoga, no time was lost and no efforts were spared in pressing forward preparations for defence, both by land and water. The British would of course pursue their way over the Lake, the moment they could construct or collect at St. John's suitable vessels for the purpose. To baffle such a movement, or at least to embarrass it as much as possible, it was extremely important that the marine force should be put on the most respectable footing, and increased to the utmost limit, which the resources in hand would admit. Great inconveniences were to be encountered in effecting this object; few materials for ship-building were in readiness; shipwrights, carpenters, and many essential articles for fitting out the vessels were to be obtained from the seaports. Such was the promptness and energy, however, with which the work was prosecuted, that by the middle of August a little squadron was prepared to sail, consisting of one sloop, three schooners, and five gondolas. The sloop carried twelve guns, one schooner the same number, the others eight, and the gondolas three each. These vessels rendezvoused at Crown Point under the the command of Arnold, and before the end of the month he sailed with his whole armament down the Lake.
By his instructions from General Gates, he was to take his station at the Isle-aux-Têtes, where there was a narrow pass in the Lake, and beyond that point he was ordered in positive terms not to advance. The order stated, that, as the present operations were designed to be wholly on the defensive, the business of the fleet was to prevent or repel a hostile invasion, but not to run any wanton risks or seek an encounter within the enemy's territory. In all other respects the discretion of the commander was to be his guide. On his arrival at Windmill Point, four miles from Isle-aux-Têtes, he discovered the island to be occupied by the enemy, numbers of whom were likewise encamped on the shores of the Lake. This induced him to stop at Windmill Point, and moor his vessels in a line across the Lake, so as to prevent any of the enemy's boats from passing * Crown Point. Hence he charges Arnold with disobedience of orders at the outset, in having gone beyond that place. But the actual site of Isle-aux-Têtes was at the lower end of the Lake, almost in contact with the Canada line, and in the vicinity of what is now called Rouse's Point. It was intended that the fleet should be stationed as near the line as prudence would admit, and the orders were strictly obeyed.—Wilkinson's Memoirs, Vol. I. p. 81.
* General Wilkinson, by mistaking the position of Isle-aux-Têtes, has bestowed much unmerited censure upon Arnold. He supposes it to be at a place called Split Rock, which is but about twenty-five miles from Crown Point
The decks of his vessels were so low, that he thought it necessary to erect around them barricades of fascines, which should protect them from being boarded by superior numbers in small craft. While his men were on shore cutting fascines, they were attacked by a party of British and Indians, and before they could reach their boat three were killed and six wounded. This circumstance proved to him the inexpediency of remaining in a position, where he was exposed to perpetual annoyance from the enemy, without having an adequate force to act by land. In a few days he returned eight or ten miles to Isle-la-Motte, and took a station more advantageous and secure, as the island was beyond the reach of an attack from the main land, and his guard-boats would discover any approach by water.
Small scouting parties were sent down on each side of the Lake, from whom intelligence was from time to time obtained, but not with such accuracy as to enable Arnold to judge of the extent of the enemy's naval preparations at St. John's. Being so well informed, nevertheless, as to deem it unadvisable to hazard an action in a part of the Lake, where he would be obliged to engage a superior force in an open encounter, he withdrew his fleet still farther back, and anchored it in a line between Valcour Island and the western shore of the Lake.
Since leaving Crown Point his armament had been reinforced, so that it now consisted of three schooners, two sloops, three galleys and eight gondolas. Early in the morning of the 11th of October, the guard-boats gave notice, that the enemy's fleet was in sight, off Cumberland Head, moving up the Lake. It soon appeared advancing around the southern point of Valcour Island, and presented a formidable aspect, there being one ship with three masts, two schooners, a radeau, one gondola, twenty gunboats, four longboats, and forty-four boats with provisions and troops. The armed vessels were manned by seven hundred chosen seamen. Such an array was enough to convince the Americans, that they must rely mainly on their bravery and the advantages of their position. The wind was likewise in their favor, as some of the larger vessels could not beat up sufficiently near to engage in the attack. While the enemy's fleet was coming round the island, Arnold had ordered his three galleys, and a schooner called the Royal Savage, to get under way and advance upon the enemy. On their return to the line the schooner grounded and was afterwards destroyed, but the men were saved. At half past twelve the action became general and very warm, the British having brought all their gunboats and one schooner within musket-shot of the American line. They kept up a heavy fire of round and grape shot, till five o'clock, when they withdrew from the contest and joined the ship and schooner, which a head wind had prevented from coming into action.
During the contest Arnold was on board the Congress galley, which suffered severely. It received seven shot between wind and water, was hulled twelve times, the main mast was wounded in two places, the rigging cut in pieces, and the proportion of killed and wounded was unusually great. So deficient was the fleet in gunners, that Arnold himself pointed almost every gun that was fired from his vessel. The Washington galley was equally shattered; the first lieutenant was killed, and the captain and master wounded. All the officers of one of the gondolas, except the captain, were lost; and another gondola sunk soon after the engagement. The whole number of killed and wounded was about sixty. The enemy landed a large body of Indians, who kept up an incessant fire of musketry from the island and the opposite shore, but without effecting much injury.
A consultation was held by the officers as soon as the engagement was over; and they agreed, that, considering the exhausted state of their ammunition, and the great superiority of the enemy's force both in ships and men, prudence required them to return to Crown Point, and if possible without risking another attack. The British had anchored their vessels in a line within a few hundred yards of the Americans, stretching from the island to the main, apparently to frustrate any such design. The night was dark, but a favoring breeze blew from the north, and before morning Arnold had passed with his whole fleet through the British line entirely undiscovered. This manoeuvre was not less bold in its execution, than extraordinary in its success. Arnold himself brought up the rear in his crippled galley, and, before their departure was known to the enemy, they had ascended the Lake ten or twelve miles to Schuyler's Island. Here they were obliged to cast anchor for half a day, in order to stop the leaks and repair their sails. Two of the gondolas were abandoned and sunk. In the afternoon they set sail again, but the wind had died away in the morning, and it now sprung up from the south, equally retarding the pursuit of the enemy and their own progress.
On the morning of the second day the scene was changed. The Congress and Washington galleys, with four gondolas, had fallen in the rear, all being too much disabled to sail freely. The advanced ships of the enemy's fleet, in one of which was General Carleton, were found to be gaining upon them, under a press of sail, and in a short time were along-side. After receiving a few broadsides the Washington struck, having been extremely weakened by the loss of men and injury received in the first engagement. The whole force of the attack now fell upon Arnold in the Congress galley. A ship of eighteen guns, a schooner of fourteen, and another of twelve, poured forth an unceasing fire within musket shot. The contest was kept up with unparalleled resolution for four hours, when the galley was reduced almost to a wreck, and was surrounded by seven sail of the enemy. In this situation Arnold ran the galley and the four gondolas into a small creek, on the east side of the Lake, about ten miles from Crown Point; and as soon as they were aground, and were set on fire, he ordered the marines to leap into the water armed with muskets, wade to the beach, and station themselves in such a manner on the bank, as to prevent the approach of the enemy's small boats. He was the last man, that remained on board, nor did he leave his galley, till the fire had made such progress, that it could not be extinguished. The flags were kept flying, and he maintained his attitude of defence on the shore, till he saw them consumed, and the whole of his flotilla enveloped in flames. There are few instances on record of more deliberate courage and gallantry, than were displayed by him from the beginning to the end of this action.
Being no longer in a condition to oppose the enemy, he proceeded immediately through the woods with his men to Crown Point, and fortunately escaped an attack from the Indians, who waylaid the path two hours after he had passed. The same night he arrived at Ticonderoga. All his clothes, papers, and baggage had been burnt in the Royal Savage at Valcour Island. He found at Ticonderoga the remnant of his fleet, being two schooners, two galleys, one sloop, and one gondola. General Waterbury, who commanded the Washington galley, and one hundred and ten prisoners were returned on parole by General Carleton the day after the last action. The whole American loss in killed and wounded was between eighty and ninety. The enemy reported theirs to be about forty.
Notwithstanding the signal failure of this enterprise, the valor and good conduct of the commander and his officers were themes of applause throughout the country. Arnold's popularity was prodigiously increased by it; and, although he was disliked in the army, as well from the spirit of jealousy commonly excited by an aspiring rival, as from the innate and irredeemable defects of his character, yet with the people at large these motives, if they existed at all, were swallowed up in an admiration of those imposing qualities and daring achievements, which are so apt to captivate the multitude, and which indeed in every stage of society are found to produce so strong an influence upon the mind. Some writers have commented on the execution of this enterprise in a tone of captious criticism, which can by no means be sustained on an impartial view of the subject. It is perhaps difficult to speak of the deeds of such a man as Arnold, without remembering the deplorable issue to which he was finally brought by his folly and wickedness; yet the historian should never forget, that he commits a crime little less flagrant in its nature, if inferior in its magnitude, when he allows himself to be so far moved by his feelings, as to depart from the strict line of truth and justice, or, by such an obliquity, to lead his readers to form a false and harsh judgment.
Arnold was sent out to meet the enemy. Whether he should fight or not, it is true, was left to his discretion. He chose the former and was beaten, but not till he had maintained a combat for half a day against a force nearly double his own, and caused the enemy to retire. This fact is enough to prove, that his position was judiciously chosen, and that the action on his part was skilfully fought. With consummate address he then penetrated the enemy's line, and brought off his whole fleet, shattered and disabled as it was, and succeeded at last in saving six of his vessels. Let it be supposed, that he had retreated before the British fleet, and left it to proceed unmolested. What would have been the consequence? There was a chance, at least, that he would be overtaken somewhere, and perhaps under circumstances of greater disadvantage. Even if he had escaped and moored his vessels under the guns of the fort at Ticonderoga, would the public have been satisfied with such a measure? Would not murmurs of complaint have been heard, that such expensive preparations should be made without any effect, or an attempt to repel the invaders? And would not a corresponding depression of public enthusiasm and spirit have followed? Whereas the event, as it turned out, was so gallant a demonstration of the courage and resolute ardor of the American troops, that it inspired universal confidence and hope at a very gloomy crisis of the revolution. It needs only be added, as a guide to a correct historical estimate of the transaction, that the conduct of Arnold was at the time approved by his military superiors, by Congress, and by the whole nation.
[CHAPTER VI.]
Stationed in Rhode Island.—Superseded in his Rank by Congress.—Complains of Injustice and ill Treatment.—His Bravery in the Affair of Danbury.—Commands at Philadelphia.
General Carleton took possession of Crown Point, and for a few days menaced Ticonderoga; but, being convinced of his inability so late in the season to accomplish his main purpose of penetrating to Albany, he retired with his fleet and army down the Lake to seek winter-quarters in Canada. It was no longer necessary to keep up a formidable force in the northern department, and a large part of the troops was ordered from Ticonderoga to reinforce General Washington in Jersey, then retreating before a victorious enemy. Arnold was in this division, and he joined Washington's camp on the west side of the Delaware, a week preceding the memorable battle of Trenton. A letter had already been despatched to him, which had missed him in his route, containing directions to proceed immediately to Rhode Island, and, in conjunction with General Spencer, who commanded on that station, to rally the New England militia, and be prepared to resist the enemy, then hovering on the coast with a large number of ships.
He remained three days with the Commander-in-chief, and hastened to Providence, the headquarters of the eastern army. The British landed and took possession of Newport. The winter was passed by Spencer and Arnold in forming plans, and making preparations, to attack the garrison on Rhode Island; but these were all defeated by the impossibility of procuring troops sufficient for such an enterprise. Arnold spent some time in Boston, for the purpose of consulting with the principal persons of Massachusetts on this project, and of engaging the legislature of that State to call out an adequate force of the militia to secure its success. The attempt failed. All the States of New England were equally interested in driving the enemy from this new lodgment within their borders, all were equally disposed to do it; but the exhaustion of the last campaign could not be repaired in a moment, nor was the ardor of the people at so high a pitch as to induce them in the depth of winter to seek an enemy, contented to remain on an island, and from whom no immediate danger was apprehended. It is moreover to be kept in mind, that every effort was now making to fill up the Continental regiments, and reinforce the dwindled army under Washington at Morristown, as well as to prepare for the expected invasion from the north in the spring.
While Arnold was engaged in this service, an incident happened, which made him begin to talk of the ingratitude of his country, and which had an important bearing on his future destiny. In February, 1777, Congress appointed five new major-generals, without including him in the list, all of whom were his juniors in rank, and one of them, General Lincoln, was promoted from the militia. It may well be imagined what effect this tacit censure and public slight would have on a person so sensitive to military glory, and whose reputation and prospects rested on that basis alone. He was totally unprepared for such a testimony of the sense of Congress, and his astonishment was not less than his indignation; but he had the self-command to conceal his emotions, and to demean himself with more moderation, than might have been expected. Washington was surprised and concerned, as he feared the ill effects, which such a practice might have upon the officers, knowing the extreme jealousy with which military men regard the subject of rank and promotion, and considering this feeling as essential to the vital interests of the army. He wrote to Arnold a soothing letter, begging him to take no hasty steps, and expressing his conviction that there was some mistake, which would in due time be rectified. He added assurances of his own endeavors to promote what he deemed in this case the claim of justice as well as of policy.
Arnold replied in a subdued tone, but not without symptoms of strong feeling. "Congress undoubtedly have a right," said he, "of promoting those, whom, from their abilities and their long and arduous services, they esteem most deserving. Their promoting junior officers to the rank of major-generals, I view as a very civil way of requesting my resignation, as unqualified for the office I hold. My commission was conferred unsolicited, and received with pleasure only as a means of serving my country. With equal pleasure I resign it, when I can no longer serve my country with honor. The person, who, void of the nice feelings of honor, will tamely condescend to give up his right, and retain a commission at the expense of his reputation, I hold as a disgrace to the army and unworthy of the glorious cause in which we are engaged. When I entered the service of my country, my character was unimpeached. I have sacrificed my interest, ease, and happiness in her cause. It is rather a misfortune than a fault, that my exertions have not been crowned with success. I am conscious of the rectitude of my intentions. In justice, therefore, to my own character, and for the satisfaction of my friends, I must request a court of inquiry into my conduct; and, though I sensibly feel the ingratitude of my countrymen, yet every personal injury shall be buried in my zeal for the safety and happiness of my country, in whose cause I have repeatedly fought and bled, and am ready at all times to risk my life." No man certainly could talk in a more patriotic strain, and perhaps it is not too great a tax upon our faith to believe, that he was at this time as sincere as most patriots, who are reduced to the extremity of enumerating their disinterested sacrifices and services, as a vindication of their character, and a proof that the public have done them wrong.
General Washington was prompt to render the aid he had promised. He wrote to some of his friends in Congress on the subject, and requested General Greene, who was then at Philadelphia, to make particular inquiries. The avowed reason was, that the members from each State insisted upon having general officers proportioned to the number of troops furnished by it, and, as Connecticut had already two major-generals, there was no vacancy for another. "I confess," said General Washington, "this is a strange mode of reasoning, but it may show you that the promotion, which was due to your seniority, was not overlooked for want of merit in you." To the request for a court of inquiry he replied, that, as no specific charge had been alleged, he did not see on what ground such a court could be instituted; and, as public bodies were not responsible for their acts, all the satisfaction which an individual could obtain, if overlooked, was a consciousness that he did not deserve such treatment for his honest exertions.
This was kind and friendly, and might have afforded consolation to a philosopher; but Arnold had never been imbued with those maxims of wisdom which teach humility, nor learned the useful art of self-control to such an extent as to resist the impulse of a craving ambition, or endure the corrodings of wounded pride. He was well aware, also, that the ostensible motives of the majority of Congress were not the real ones; and this fact pressed upon him the unwelcome conviction, that his enemies were more numerous and active than he had ever imagined. Looking for the support of his reputation to the splendor of his military fame, and the prevailing power of popular applause over the opinions of all ranks of society, he had never prepared himself for such an expression of public sentiment, and his chagrin was in proportion to his disappointment.
At length he resolved to visit head-quarters, and obtain permission to proceed in person to Philadelphia, and demand of Congress an investigation into his conduct. On his journey from Providence, he happened to be in Connecticut at the time when the British expedition, consisting of two thousand troops, under Governor Tryon, landed at Compo, near Fairfield, penetrated the country, and burnt the town of Danbury, with the public stores at that place. Generals Silliman and Wooster had succeeded in collecting suddenly about six hundred men, of whom one hundred were Continental troops, and the others militia, and pushed forward in pursuit of the enemy. Arnold joined them at a short distance from Reading, and they all marched to Bethel, about four miles from Danbury, where they arrived in the middle of the night, and learned that the town was destroyed, and the British preparing to retire. They halted at Bethel to refresh the troops till morning, and then separated their party into two divisions. At daylight two hundred men under General Wooster marched to harass the enemy in their rear. Arnold and Silliman headed the other division, amounting to four hundred, and took a different route, with the design of intercepting their retreat. It was at first uncertain whether Governor Tryon would go to the North River, and embark in the vessels then lying near Tarrytown, or return to the ships, which he had left in the Sound. All doubts were soon removed, however, by intelligence of his being in full march towards Compo.
General Wooster overtook the enemy's rear guard, and commenced a spirited attack. It was repelled by discharges of artillery and musketry, which seemed at first to stagger his men, unaccustomed to scenes of battle. He had placed himself in their front, to encourage them forward, and had just called out, "Come on, my boys; never mind such random shot," when he received a wound in his side, which proved mortal. He fell from his horse, and was carried back to Danbury where he died.
By eleven o'clock in the morning, Arnold's division had reached Ridgefield, having been augmented on the way to about five hundred men. He took a position at the northern extremity of the village, and erected a barricade of carts, logs, and earth across the road by which the British were to pass. The post was well chosen, the road was narrow, his right flank was covered by a house and barn, and his left by a ledge of rocks. At three o'clock the enemy appeared, marching in a solid column, and they commenced a heavy fire as they advanced towards the breast-work. 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 a 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 the 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 reinforced 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.
The news of these exploits passed quickly to Congress, and without delay Arnold was promoted to the rank of major-general. But, with an inconsistency not easily accounted for, his relative rank was not restored, and he was still left by the date of his commission below the five major-generals, who had been raised over him. If his merit as an officer now required his advancement, notwithstanding the former objections, it would seem to have been a proper act of magnanimity to place him where the reproach upon his military honor would be removed, and his sense of justice satisfied. To degrade and promote at the same time was a singular mode of bestowing reward, or expressing approbation. Arnold regarded it in that light, and was by no means at ease with his new appointment thus grudgingly conferred, or rather extorted by the fresh laurels he had won on the field of battle.
General Washington, sensible of the delicacy of his situation, and valuing highly his services, hastened to make the best amends in his power for the neglect of Congress, by appointing him to the command on the North River, which, at that juncture was as honorable a post as any officer in the army could hold. He declined the offer, however, and obtained the consent of the Commander-in-chief to go to Philadelphia, and prosecute his first design of applying in person to Congress for an examination into his conduct. He soon discovered, what he before had sufficient reason to apprehend, that the unfavorable reports of his behavior at Montreal and Ticonderoga, added to a conviction of the inherent defects of his private character, which every body was ready to acknowledge, were the prevailing causes of the disrepute in which he was held by a majority of that body. These stern patriots, regarding virtue as essential to true honor, did not consider great examples of valor, resource, and energy, even in arousing and sustaining the military ardor of a country, as an adequate counterpoise to a dereliction of principle and a compromising integrity. How far a judicious policy and pure patriotism were combined on this occasion, or to what extent party zeal contributed to warp the judgment, we need not now inquire. It is enough to know, that impressions were fixed and their influence was felt. To remove the former and weaken the latter was the task, which Arnold set himself to perform.
His complaints were loud, and expressed with a show of sensibility, which from any other man might seem to be sincere. "I am exceedingly unhappy," said he, in writing to Congress, "to find, that, after having made every sacrifice of fortune, ease, and domestic happiness to serve my country, I am publicly impeached (in particular by Lieutenant-Colonel Brown) of a catalogue of crimes, which, if true, ought to subject me to disgrace, infamy, and the just resentment of my countrymen. Conscious of the rectitude of my intentions, however I may have erred in judgment, I must request the favor of Congress to point out some mode, by which my conduct and that of my accusers may be inquired into, and justice done to the innocent and injured." This letter was referred to the Board of War. As a proof, that the poison of party was then rankling in the national councils, and that it was not inoperative in this affair, we may cite a letter written by Richard Henry Lee, on the day that the above complaint, or petition, was presented. "One plan," he observes, "now in frequent use, is to assassinate the characters of the friends of America, in every place and by every means; at this moment they are reading in Congress a bold and audacious attempt of this kind against the brave General Arnold."
After examining all the papers in their possession, and holding a conference with General Arnold, and with Mr. Carroll (one of the commissioners from Congress at Montreal when the former commanded there), the Board of War reported, that they were entirely satisfied as to the character and conduct of General Arnold, which, in the language of the Board, had been "so cruelly and groundlessly aspersed." The report was confirmed by Congress; yet, strange as it may appear, his rank was not restored, nor was any resolution adopted on that head; and he was thus left with all his griefs bearing as heavily upon him as before; and indeed more so, since their burden was increased by this unexpected but convincing proof of the deep-rooted hostility of his opponents, and of their being influenced by motives, which he had not anticipated. His disappointment was the greater at this moment, as Congress had two days before complimented him with the gift of a horse, properly caparisoned, being a token of their approbation of his recent gallant conduct against the enemy. It was no wonder, that this giving with one hand and taking away with the other, exciting hope and defeating expectation with the same breath, should worry and disgust a man, who had a right to look for consistency if not for favor. This duty Congress owed to themselves, for the sake of their own dignity; and they certainly owed it to every officer, whom they deemed worthy of a commission in the army.
Another circumstance now occurred, which involved the case in new difficulties. General Arnold presented his accounts to Congress, and requested an examination of them by a committee. For the want of proper regulations in the various military departments at the beginning of the war, the business of purchases, payments, and other money concerns, rested mainly with the commanders of detachments. This system prevailed in the Canada expedition as a matter of necessity. By the peculiarity of his situation, from the time he left Cambridge until the evacuation of Canada, Arnold was compelled on many occasions to act in the triple capacity of commander, commissary, and paymaster. Hence his accounts were voluminous and extremely complicated, and in many parts without vouchers or proper certificates. This irregularity was to be expected from the nature of the case; but it was soon discovered, that he had introduced a series of extravagant charges in his own favor, some of them dubious in their character, and others manifestly unreasonable, even if the items could be proved, which in the aggregate swelled his personal claims upon the government to an enormous amount.
As there was no pretence of his having carried his own money into the service in any considerable quantity, and as his credit was not of a kind to command large resources upon his individual responsibility, the inquiry very naturally arose, how he could in the space of a few months, while discharging an active and arduous military duty, accumulate property to such an amount, as appeared in the balance of his accounts. In short, every one perceived, that there was a fallacy, a deception, or an impudent attempt to overreach and defraud the public. His enemies in Congress gained new strength to their cause by these developements, and his friends were vexed at the hard task they had undertaken, of vindicating and sustaining a man, whose merits as an officer were of the highest order, and whose services they deemed invaluable to the country, but who, by the deplorable perversion of his moral qualities, was using the ascendency he had acquired as a means of robbing that very public, which, under the guise of a hypocritical patriotism, he pretended to serve from disinterested motives, and at a great sacrifice.
While the committee were engaged in examining the accounts, Arnold was appointed to the command of the army then convening in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, and awaiting the movements of General Howe, who, it was supposed, would open the campaign by a renewal of his attempt to cross the Delaware, and march into Pennsylvania. When this officer made a demonstration from Brunswic towards Washington's encampment, with a view of bringing that cautious commander to a general action, it was thought his design was against Philadelphia, and Arnold was sent forward by Congress to take post on the Delaware above Trenton, to examine the passes, secure the boats, and cooperate with General Washington in opposing the enemy's advance. This duty he discharged with his usual promptness and energy, and, when the British general retired to Brunswic, he returned to his head-quarters at Philadelphia.
Meantime his accounts lingered in the hands of the Committee, who had delayed making a report, and seemed not inclined to hasten it; nor had any notice been taken of his reiterated demands to have his rank adjusted. His impetuous temper could not brook this neglect, and his patience was exhausted. He wrote a letter to Congress, tendering a resignation of his commission, declaring at the same time, that he was driven to this step only by a sense of the injustice he had suffered, and professing an ardent love of his country, and his readiness to risk his life in its cause; but, he added, "honor is a sacrifice no man ought to make; as I received, so I wish to transmit it inviolate to posterity." Just at this crisis came the intelligence of the disasters on the northern frontiers, the unexpected evacuation of Ticonderoga, and the approach of the formidable army under Burgoyne; and it so happened, that, on the same day that the above letter of resignation was communicated to Congress, they received a letter from General Washington, recommending that General Arnold should be immediately sent to join the northern army. "He is active, judicious, and brave," said Washington, "and an officer in whom the militia will repose great confidence."
Flattered by this preference, and looking forward to a scene of action in which he always delighted, he did not hesitate to comply with the order, and suspend his demand of permission to resign, adding only, that he should leave it with Congress, and made no doubt they would listen to it when the service now before him should be accomplished. He went still farther and volunteered an act of magnanimity, which certainly must extort praise, if it cannot win esteem. General St. Clair was in the northern army, and he was one of the five major-generals, who had been promoted over Arnold. With his keen sensibilities on this subject, it might be presumed that he would insist on his rights, and refuse to be commanded by an officer thus situated; but he generously waved all considerations of that kind, declaring that he would do his duty faithfully in the rank he then held, and trust to the justice of his claims for a future reparation. This pacific overture, it is true, was owing in no small degree to the solicitude of Washington, whom he knew to be his sincere friend, and whose judgment was compromised in recommending him to this appointment.
[CHAPTER VII.]
Joins the northern Army.—The tragical Death of Jane McCrea near Fort Edward.—Arnold commands an Expedition to Fort Schuyler.—Rejoins the main Army on the Hudson.—The Battles of Behmus's Heights.
Arnold arrived at Fort Edward and joined General Schuyler in the latter part of July. The array was then preparing to move five miles lower down the Hudson, and form an encampment on the high grounds near Moses Creek, which had been selected for the purpose by Kosciuszko. At the time of this movement the army was separated into two divisions, one of which was put under the command of Arnold, whose headquarters were between Moses Creek and Fort Edward. Four days after he had taken this station, a tragical event happened within the limits of his command, which, from its singular barbarity and the circumstances attending it, has been commemorated by historians, and will be perpetuated as a memento of the melancholy fate of suffering innocence, and an affecting record of the horrors of savage warfare.
The murder of Jane McCrea has been a theme, which eloquence and sensibility have alike contributed to dignify, and which has kindled in many a breast the emotions of a responsive sympathy. General Gates's description, in his letter to Burgoyne, although more ornate than forcible, and abounding more in bad taste than simplicity or pathos, was suited to the feelings of the moment, and produced a lively impression in every part of America; and the glowing language of Burke, in one of his most celebrated speeches in the British Parliament, made the story of Jane McCrea familiar to the European world.
This young lady was the daughter of a clergyman, who died in New Jersey before the Revolution. Upon her father's death she sought a home in the house of her brother, a respectable gentleman residing on the western bank of Hudson's River, about four miles below Fort Edward. Here she formed an intimacy with a young man, named David Jones, to whom it was understood she was engaged to be married. When the war broke out, Jones took the side of the royalists, went to Canada, received a commission, and was a captain or lieutenant among the provincials in Burgoyne's army.
Fort Edward was situate on the eastern margin of Hudson's River, within a few yards of the water, and surrounded by a plain of considerable extent, which was cleared of wood and cultivated. On the road leading to the north, and near the foot of a hill about one third of a mile from the fort, stood a house occupied by Mrs. McNiel, a widow lady and an acquaintance of Miss McCrea, with whom she was staying as a visitor at the time the American army was in that neighborhood. The side of the hill was covered with a growth of bushes, and on its top, a quarter of a mile from the house, stood a large pine tree, near the root of which gushed out a perennial spring of water. A guard of one hundred men had been left at the fort, and a picket under Lieutenant Van Vechten was stationed in the woods on the hill a little beyond the pine tree.
Early one morning this picket guard was attacked by a party of Indians, rushing through the woods from different points at the same moment, and rending the air with hideous yells. Lieutenant Van Vechten and five others were killed and scalped, and four were wounded. Samuel Standish, one of the guard, whose post was near the pine tree, discharged his musket at the first Indian he saw, and ran down the hill towards the fort; but he had no sooner reached the plain, than three Indians, who had pursued him to cut off his retreat, darted out of the bushes, fired, and wounded him in the foot. One of them sprang upon him, threw him to the ground, pinioned his arms, and then pushed him violently forward up the hill. He naturally made as much haste as he could, and in a short time they came to the spring, where several Indians were assembled.
Here Standish was left to himself, at a little distance from the spring and the pine tree, expecting every moment to share the fate of his comrades, whose scalps were conspicuously displayed. A few minutes only had elapsed, when he saw a small party of Indians ascending the hill, and with them Mrs. McNiel and Miss McCrea on foot. He knew them both, having often been at Mrs. McNiel's house. The party had hardly joined the other Indians, when he perceived much agitation among them, high words and violent gestures, till at length they engaged in a furious quarrel, and beat one another with their muskets. In the midst of this fray, one of the chiefs, apparently in a paroxysm of rage, shot Miss McCrea in the breast. She instantly fell and expired. Her hair was long and flowing. The same chief grasped it in his hand, seized his knife, and took off the scalp in such a manner as to include nearly the whole of the hair; then springing from the ground, he tossed it in the face of a young warrior, who stood near him watching the operation, brandished it in the air, and uttered a yell of savage exultation. When this was done the quarrel ceased; and, as the fort had already been alarmed, the Indians hurried away as quickly as possible to General Fraser's encampment on the road to Fort Anne, taking with them Mrs. McNiel and Samuel Standish.
The bodies of the slain were found by a party, that went in pursuit, and were carried across the river. They had been stripped of their clothing, and the body of Miss McCrea was wounded in nine places, either by a scalping knife or a tomahawk. A messenger was despatched to convey the afflicting intelligence to her brother, who arrived soon afterwards, took charge of his sister's remains, and had them interred on the east side of the river about three miles below the fort. The body of Lieutenant Van Vechten was buried at the same time and on the same spot.
History has preserved no facts by which we can at this day ascertain the reason, why Miss McCrea should remain as she did in so exposed and unprotected a situation. She had been reminded of her danger by the people at the fort. Tradition relates, however, and with seeming truth, that through some medium of communication she had promised her lover, probably by his advice, to remain in this place, until the approach of the British troops should afford her an opportunity to join him, in company with her hostess and friend. It is said, that, when they saw the Indians coming to the house, they were at first frightened and attempted to escape; but, as the Indians made signs of a pacific intention, and one of them held up a letter intimating that it was to be opened, their fears were calmed and the letter was read. It was from Jones, and contained a request that they would put themselves under the charge of the Indians, whom he had sent for the purpose, and who would guard them in safety to the British camp. Unfortunately two separate parties of Indians, or at least two chiefs acting independently of each other, had united in this enterprise, combining with it an attack of the picket guard. It is incredible that Jones should have known this part of the arrangement, or he would have foreseen the danger it threatened. When the prize was in their hands, the two chiefs quarrelled about the mode of dividing the reward they were to receive; and, according to the Indian rule of settling disputes in the case of captives, one of them in a wild fit of passion killed the victim and secured the scalp. Nor is it the least shocking feature of the transaction, that the savage seemed not aware of the nature of his mission. Uninformed as to the motive of his employer for obtaining the person of the lady, or not comprehending it, he regarded her in the light of a prisoner, and supposed the scalp would be an acceptable trophy. Let it be imagined what were the feelings of the anxious lover, waiting with joyful anticipation the arrival of his intended bride, when this appalling proof of her death was presented to him. The innocent had suffered by the hand of cruelty and violence, which he had unconsciously armed; his most fondly cherished hopes were blasted, and a sting was planted in his soul, which time and forgetfulness could never eradicate. His spirit was scathed and his heart broken. He lived but a few years, a prey to his sad recollections, and sunk into the grave under the burden of his grief.
The remembrance of this melancholy tale is still cherished with a lively sympathy by the people, who dwell near the scene of its principal incidents. The inhabitants of the village of Fort Edward have lately removed the remains of Miss McCrea from their obscure resting-place, and deposited them in the public burial-ground. The ceremony was solemn and impressive. A procession of young men and maidens followed the relics, and wept in silence when the earth was again closed over them, thus exhibiting an honorable proof of sensibility and of respect for the dead. The little fountain still pours out its clear waters near the brow of the hill, and the venerable pine is yet standing in its ancient majesty, broken at the top and shorn of its branches by the winds and storms of half a century, but revered as marking the spot where youth and innocence were sacrificed in the tragical death of Jane McCrea. *
* The circumstances attending the murder of Miss McCrea have been variously represented. Samuel Standish himself related to me the above particulars, as far as they came under his own observation. When he arrived at the British camp he was taken before General Fraser, who asked him many questions and treated him kindly. He was then sent a prisoner to Ticonderoga, whence he contrived to make his escape two months afterwards. Miles Standish, the famous military leader of the first Pilgrims at Plymouth, was his ancestor in a direct line.
The first report of the attack upon the picket guard, which was brought to Arnold, magnified the number of the assailants so much, that he detached a thousand men, with orders to march in two divisions, one to fall upon their rear, and the other to gain their front. The attempt was defeated by a heavy shower of rain, which wet the arms of the troops and damaged their powder. It is not likely, indeed, that in any event they would have overtaken the enemy, who moved off without delay, and were not inclined to wait an attack.
The day after this affair an advanced party of the British troops took possession of Fort Edward, and General Schuyler soon retreated with his whole army to Stillwater. In the mean time the question of Arnold's rank was again brought up in Congress, and decided against him by a majority of nearly three to one. It was the first occasion on which the yeas and nays were entered in the journals. Arnold had previously received a letter from one of his friends in Congress, who assured him, that, in the present temper of the members, he could have no hope of the restoration of his rank. Piqued and mortified at this obstinate determination to withhold from him what he deemed to be a right, and from the refusal of which his reputation was suffering, he asked leave of General Schuyler to retire; but by the persuasion of that officer, and a representation of the absolute necessity of his services at so critical a moment, he was induced again to suspend his purpose.
While the army was at Stillwater, intelligence arrived of the defeat of General Herkimer at the bloody battle of Oriskany, the investiture of Fort Schuyler by St. Leger with a large body of British troops, Canadians, and Indians, and the imminent danger to which the garrison was exposed. Eight hundred men under General Learned were immediately detached to the relief of the garrison. Arnold volunteered to command the expedition, and set off with instructions to call out as many of the militia as he could, and to adopt the most effectual measures to repel the enemy, and protect the settlements on the Mohawk River.
Washington had already advised his being sent into that quarter, but General Schuyler was reluctant to spare him from the main army.
When the detachment reached Fort Dayton at the German Flats, where there was a guard of Continental troops, it appeared by the adjutant's return, that the whole force then assembled was nine hundred and forty-six regulars, and less than one hundred militia. It was ascertained at the same time, that the number of the enemy besieging Fort Schuyler amounted to at least seventeen hundred, including one thousand Indians. In the opinion of a council of war, with these facts before them, it was imprudent to hazard an attack until a reinforcement could be obtained. Arnold accordingly sent an express to General Gates, who had superseded General Schuyler and was then at Van Schaick's Island, at the mouth of the Mohawk, soliciting an additional detachment of one thousand light troops. He likewise issued a tumid proclamation, after the example of Burgoyne and St. Leger, and, according to the fashion of those times, offering pardon to Indians, Germans, Americans, or Britons, if within ten days they would sue for protection and take the oath of allegiance to the United States, but threatening direful vengeance upon those, who should neglect this proffer of mercy, and be captured in prosecuting their hostile designs.
Stratagems in war are sometimes more effectual than arms or military skill. A singular instance of this kind occurred on the present occasion. A man by the name of Cuyler was seized as a spy. * There was little doubt of his guilt, or at least of his coming under the heavy penalties of the proclamation. Cuyler was a refugee, an inhabitant of that region, a man of some consideration among the people, and known in the enemy's camp, whence he had lately come out with a flag to entice the settlers to rally under the standard of St. Leger. It is said to have been first suggested by Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks, of the Massachusetts line, to employ him as a messenger of deceptive intelligence to the enemy. He was brought before Arnold, who questioned him, and promised a pardon of all past offences and the security of his property, if he would return to St. Leger's camp, and make so exaggerated a report of the number of Americans approaching, as to alarm the Indians and cause them to despair of success. To this he assented, and his brother was retained in confinement as a hostage for the faithful fulfilment of his promise.
* In some accounts he is called Hanyost Schuyler, which I am inclined to think was the true name; but historians have adopted the other.
A friendly Indian, wily by nature and skilled in artifice from habit, proposed that bullets should be shot through Cuyler's coat, which would give the greater plausibility to his story. Thus prepared he entered the forest, and in a little time fell in with one of the enemy's scouts, to whom he related the disaster of his having been taken and condemned as a spy, adding that he was about to be executed when he found means to elude his guards, but was pursued so closely as to be shot several times through his clothes, and had escaped with the utmost peril of his life. The same account he repeated to St. Leger, as soon as he came to the camp, and said that Arnold was advancing by rapid marches at the head of two thousand men. A second messenger followed close upon his heels, who magnified the number to three thousand, with the additional embellishment of their being very near at hand. The success of the stratagem was complete. A panic spread among the Indians, and two or three hundred decamped immediately. The chiefs insisted on a general retreat, and no arguments could prevail on them to remain. In a short time the whole camp was in confusion, and St. Leger was obliged to move off so precipitately, that fifty-nine tents were left standing, and various articles of baggage and camp equipage were scattered in every direction. The faithless savages, not contented to desert their friends, seized the opportunity to steal and plunder whatever came in their way. Cuyler concealed himself and got safely into the fort.
Thus was raised the siege of Fort Schuyler, and thus terminated St. Leger's expedition, from which great advantages had been expected by the British government in aid of General Burgoyne. Almost immediately after sending to Gates for a reinforcement, Arnold resolved to march forward with such troops as he had; and the news of St. Leger's retreat met him twenty-two miles from the fort. This movement, which was reported by the scouts, gave credit to the exaggerated statements of the messengers. He advanced to the fort, where he continued but a short time, and then returned to General Gates's army, having been absent twenty days. Colonel Gansevoort, who commanded at Fort Schuyler, sustained the siege with firmness and bravery. Lieutenant-Colonel Willett, the second in command, distinguished himself in a sortie from the garrison, and by other acts of military enterprise, which, the British Annual Register said, merited the praise even of an enemy.
The left wing of Gates's army was now at Loudon's Ferry, on the south bank of the Mohawk River, five miles above its confluence with the Hudson. The command at that post was assigned to Arnold. Two brigades and Morgan's battalion of riflemen were stationed there, to prevent General Burgoyne from crossing the Mohawk, should his march be continued thus far towards Albany. This event, however, was not destined to happen. The fatal defeat at Bennington, and the entire failure of the western expedition, had weakened his strength, depressed his hopes, and taught him caution. He lingered at Saratoga, and the American army, elated by their good fortune and encouraged by the reviving spirit of the country, retraced their steps and encamped on Behmus's Heights.
In this encampment Arnold still retained the left division of the army, consisting of the same regiments as at Loudon's Ferry. On the morning of the 19th of September, seven days after the camp had been formed, intelligence was brought that parties of the enemy were advancing within two or three miles of the lines. Arnold expressed his opinion to General Gates, that troops should march out and attack them; and he accordingly received orders to send Morgan's riflemen and Dearborn's light infantry, and to support them if necessary. An action was brought on, which lasted from half past twelve o'clock till night, and was fought wholly by detachments from Arnold's division, except one regiment only from another brigade. Wilkinson says, that no general officer was on the field of battle during the day; but when, towards evening, Gates and Arnold were together in the front of the camp, and Colonel Lewis came in from the scene of action and stated that its progress was undecisive, Arnold exclaimed, "I will soon put an end to it," and set off in a full gallop from the camp. Under the apprehension that he would do some rash thing, as Wilkinson goes on to say, Gates despatched an officer after him and ordered him back. It thus appears, that he was neither ordered out, nor permitted to go out, to take any part in the action. To a man, whose element was fighting, and whose ambition for military glory was equalled only by his bravery in acquiring it, this check upon his aspirations must have been keenly felt, whatever motives for imposing it may have actuated his superior in command.
A serious misunderstanding arose at this time between Gates and Arnold, which several circumstances conspired to foment. In the first place, a part of Arnold's division was withdrawn without his knowledge, and he was put in the ridiculous light, as he called it, of presuming to give orders, which were contravened by the general orders of the commander-in-chief. This is supposed to have been owing to the officious interference of Wilkinson, who was adjutant-general to the army, and who insisted on the returns of a part of Arnold's division being made directly to him, and influenced Gates to sustain his demand, which was done in general orders, without giving notice to Arnold. Again, it was ascertained, that in his official communication to Congress, respecting the battle, Gates had said nothing of Arnold or his division, but merely stated that the action was fought by detachments from the army. Arnold complained of this neglect as ungenerous, not more in regard to himself than to the troops under his immediate command. "Had my division behaved ill," said he, "the other division of the army would have thought it extremely hard to have been amenable for their conduct." High words and harsh language passed between the two generals, and Gates went so far as to tell Arnold, that he thought him of little consequence in the army, that when General Lincoln arrived he should take away his command of a division, and that he was ready to give him a pass to leave the camp whenever he pleased.
A correspondence followed; haughty and arrogant on the part of Gates, intemperate and indiscreet on that of Arnold. The latter demanded a pass for himself and suite to join General Washington. It was granted; but he changed his mind when he had taken time for reflection, rightly perceiving the hazard to which he would subject his reputation by voluntarily retiring from the army when another action might be hourly expected. He remained, although deprived of his command, and without any employment in the camp. Gates took the division under his own immediate charge, General Lincoln in the meantime being put in command of the right wing.
Which party in the dispute was the most blamable, it would be difficult now to decide. That Gates was overbearing is certain; that Arnold was impetuous and presuming may as little be doubted. He probably relied too much on the professions of friendship, and acts of indulgence, which the same commander had manifested in his favor the year before at Ticonderoga. There is room to believe, also, that a spice of jealousy mingled with Gates's feelings on this occasion. Colonel Varick, writing from camp to General Schuyler, three days after the action, said, "He seems to be piqued, that Arnold's division had the honor of beating the enemy on the 19th. This I am certain of, that Arnold has all the credit of the action. And this I further know, that Gates asked where the troops were going, when Scammell's battalion marched out, and, upon being told, he declared no more troops should go; he would not suffer the camp to be exposed. Had Gates complied with Arnold's repeated desires, he would have obtained a general and complete victory over the enemy. But it is evident to me, he never intended to fight Burgoyne, till Arnold urged, begged, and entreated him to do it." After the convention of Saratoga, Colonel Varick again wrote as follows in a letter from Albany. "During Burgoyne's stay here, he gave Arnold great credit for his bravery and military abilities, especially in the action of the 19th, whenever he spoke of him, and once in the presence of Gates." From this testimony it may be inferred, that the causes of the quarrel did not grow altogether out of the relations of rank in which the two parties stood to each other. Personal motives had their full share of influence at least with one, and perhaps with both.
When the second battle of Behmus's Heights commenced, on the 7th of October, Arnold, having no command, was discovered to be in a state of high excitement and apparent irritation. He continued in camp for some time, but at length, without instructions or permission, rode off in a full gallop to the field of battle. This being told to Gates, he sent Major Armstrong after him with orders. As soon as Arnold saw Armstrong, anticipating the purport of his message, and doubtless remembering the peremptory order to return while on his way out to the former action, he put spurs to his horse and quickened his speed. Armstrong pursued, tracing the erratic movements of Arnold, and keeping up the chase for half an hour, without being able to approach near enough to speak to him. And in fact, Arnold received no orders during the day, but rode about the field in every direction, seeking the hottest parts of the action, and issuing his commands wherever he went.
Being the highest officer in rank, that appeared on the field, his orders were obeyed when practicable; but all accounts agree, that his conduct was rash in the extreme, indicating rather the frenzy of a madman, than the considerate wisdom of an experienced general. He threw himself heedlessly into the most exposed situations, brandishing his sword in the air, animating his troops, and urging them forward. But the brilliant manouvre with which the engagement was closed, the assault of the enemy's works and driving the Hessians from their encampment, was undoubtedly owing in the first case to Arnold. He gave the order, and by his personal bravery set an example to the troops, which inspired them with ardor and hurried them onward. He was shot through the leg whilst riding gallantly into the sally-port, and his horse fell dead under him. The success of the assault was complete, and crowned the day with victory.
It is a curious fact, that an officer, who really had no command in the army, was the leader in one of the most spirited and important battles of the revolution. His madness, or rashness, or whatever it may be called, resulted most fortunately for himself. The wound he received, at the moment of rushing into the very arms of danger and of death, added fresh lustre to his military glory, and was a new claim to public favor and applause. In the heat of the action he struck an officer on the head with his sword, an indignity and offence, which might justly have been retaliated on the spot in the most fatal manner. The officer forbore; and the next day, when he demanded redress, Arnold declared his entire ignorance of the act, and expressed his regret. Some persons ascribed his wild temerity to intoxication, but Major Armstrong, who assisted in removing him from the field, was satisfied that this was not true. Others said he took opium. This is conjecture, unsustained by proofs of any kind, and consequently improbable. His vagaries may perhaps be sufficiently explained by the extraordinary circumstances of wounded pride, anger, and desperation, in which he was placed. Gates was not on the field, nor indeed did he leave his encampment during either of the battles of Behmus's Heights.
Disabled by his wound, the bone of the leg being fractured, General Arnold was removed to Albany, where he stayed throughout the winter confined to his room. Congress relented, though with an ill grace at so late an hour, and authorized General Washington to send him a commission giving him the full rank he had claimed. This was accompanied with a letter in which Washington said, "As soon as your situation will permit, I request you will repair to this army, it being my earnest wish to have your services the ensuing campaign. In hopes of this, I have set you down in an arrangement now under consideration, and for a command, which, I trust, will be agreeable to yourself and of great advantage to the public." Early in the spring he went to Middletown in Connecticut, where he spent a month or two, and then proceeded to New Haven. His entrance into that town was marked with honorable demonstrations of respect for his military character. Several Continental and militia officers, a company under arms, and many of the citizens, went out to meet him on the road, and his arrival was announced by thirteen discharges of cannon.
While at New Haven he received from General Washington a set of epaulettes and a sword-knot, with a letter stating that they were presented "as a testimony of sincere regard and approbation of his conduct." A gentleman in France had sent to General Washington three sets of epaulettes and sword-knots, requesting him to retain one for himself, and bestow the others on any gentlemen he might choose. The third set was given to General Lincoln.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
Takes Command in Philadelphia.—Proposes joining the Navy.—Charges against him by the Council of Pennsylvania.—His Plan for a new Settlement in the western Part of New York.—His Trial by a Court-martial.
Before the end of May, Arnold joined the army at Valley Forge. It was daily expected, that the enemy would evacuate Philadelphia; and, as the condition of his wound did not permit him to perform an active part during the campaign, Washington had determined to appoint him to the command of that city, as soon as the British troops should leave it. This event occurred in a few days, and when the main army crossed the Delaware in pursuit of the retreating enemy, Arnold established his head-quarters in Philadelphia.
A small regiment only of Continental troops with a few militia was attached to his command, and although in a military point of view the post had little responsibility, yet in other respects its duties were delicate and difficult. The enemy had held possession of the city for more than eight months, and in that period it had been the resort of many persons disaffected to the American cause; and indeed not a few of the most respectable inhabitants were known to be of very doubtful patriotism, if not wholly inclined to the interests of the King. Again, there was much merchandise in the city belonging to this description of persons, or at least possessing an equivocal character as to ownership, which would naturally open a door to disputes, if not to covert and fraudulent transactions.
But a still greater source of perplexity, and of ultimate mischief, was the indefinable nature of the powers, with which the commandant of the city was invested. How far did the military authority extend? What objects did it embrace, and in what particulars was it to take cognizance of the civil rights, condition, and acts of the people? Where was the line to be drawn between the control of the military commander, and that of the government of Pennsylvania, whose laws and orders the citizens were bound to obey? These questions could not be answered by precedent or rule; and the practical difficulties could be avoided only by a degree of prudence, which was not to be expected from the habits and temperament of Arnold.
The instructions to him from the Commander-in-chief were expressed in general terms, and the mode of discharging the duties of his new appointment was left mainly to his own discretion. By a resolve of Congress, the removal, transfer, and sale of all goods in the city were to be prevented, till a joint committee of that body and of the Council of Pennsylvania should ascertain whether any of the property belonged to the King of Great Britain or to his subjects. With the design of carrying this resolve into effect, Arnold, as soon as he entered the city, issued a proclamation prohibiting the sale of goods until the inquiry should be made according to the order of Congress. Although this measure was advised by the principal persons of the city, and was indeed necessary for the strict discharge of his duty, yet it appeared so arbitrary in its principles, and bore upon so large a portion of the community, that it was unpopular, and brought some degree of odium on its immediate author. It infused a prejudice and dislike into the minds of the people, which neither his disposition, the weight of his personal character, nor his manners, would be likely to remove. It was, to say the least, an unpropitious beginning of his command, and led the way to the unfortunate train of events that followed.
Arnold had been a month at Philadelphia, when he conceived the project of quitting the army, and entering into the naval service.
"My wounds," said he, in writing to General Washington, "are in a fair way, and less painful than usual, though there is little prospect of my being able to take the field for a considerable time; which consideration, together with that of being obliged entirely to neglect my private affairs since I have been in the service, has induced me to wish to retire from public business, unless an offer, which my friends have mentioned, should be made to me of the command of the navy, to which my being wounded would not be so great an objection as it would to remaining in the army. I must beg leave to request your sentiments respecting a command in the navy. I am sensible of my inability, and of the great hazard and fatigue attending the office, and that I should enjoy much greater happiness in a retired life; but still my wishes to serve my country have a greater weight with me, than domestic happiness or ease."
General Washington's reply was brief and cautious. He declined expressing an opinion or giving advice, saying that his ignorance of naval concerns rendered him an incompetent judge.
Whether there was a serious intention in any quarter to appoint Arnold to the command of the navy, or whether the idea originated with himself, and he wished to obtain the countenance of Washington in aid of his object, it would not be easy at this time to ascertain. The above extract from his own letter is probably the only record relative to the subject that can be found. His pecuniary embarrassments were now beginning to press upon him, at the moment when his extravagant habits of living made new demands, and his fondness for display was pampered by the adventitious consequence to which he was raised as commandant of Philadelphia. He soon discovered, that his means bore no proportion to his wants, and that his situation afforded him no facilities to increase the former, while it presented many temptations to multiply the latter. It may be presumed, therefore, that motives of gain, rather than of patriotism or honorable ambition, induced him to think of deserting the theatre of action, in which he had acquired so remarkable a celebrity, and of commencing a new career in another department, where his experience was limited, and his professional prospects were doubtful. In the command of the navy his ruling passion would be flattered with the alluring hope of profitable captures. This conjecture is strengthened by the fact, that he afterwards formed a resolution to take the command of a privateer, although he abandoned the scheme before he attempted to carry it into effect.
Amidst so much that was mercenary, and so many derelictions of principle and faults of conduct, it is refreshing to discover some alleviating incidents. The lively interest expressed by Arnold in the orphan children of the lamented General Warren, who fell at Bunker's Hill, and the substantial tokens of kindness, which from time to time he rendered to them, would in any other person be regarded as noble proofs of disinterested benevolence and goodness of heart. Let them be placed in the scale, and allowed the weight they deserve. In what relation these two persons had stood to each other before the war is not known, but it is evident they were such as to inspire grateful recollections in the breast of Arnold.
A name, made illustrious by patriotic ardor in the cause of his country and the sacrifice of his life on the altar of liberty, was the only inheritance left by Warren to four young children. Through the instrumentality of Samuel Adams, a resolve of Congress was passed, that the eldest son should be educated at the expense of the United States. It was presumed that the State of Massachusetts would provide for the other children. This latter expectation, however, was disappointed. The three younger children were put under the charge of Miss Mercy Scollay, of Boston, to whom Arnold wrote in the following terms, a few days after he took the command at Philadelphia.
"About three months ago I was informed," said he, "that my late worthy friend General Warren left his affairs unsettled, and that, after paying his debts, a very small matter, if any thing, would remain for the education of his children, who, to my great surprise, I find have been entirely neglected by the State. Permit me to beg your continuing your care of the daughter, and that you will at present take charge of the education of the son. I make no doubt that his relations will consent that he shall be under your care. My intention is to use my interest with Congress to provide for the family. If they decline it, I make no doubt of a handsome collection by private subscription. At all events, I will provide for them in a manner suitable to their birth, and the grateful sentiments I shall ever feel for the memory of my friend. I have sent to you by Mr. Hancock five hundred dollars for the present. I wish you to have Richard clothed handsomely, and sent to the best school in Boston. Any expense you are at, please call on me for, and it shall be paid with thanks."
These generous sentiments were steadily maintained, and occasional supplies of money were forwarded according to the promise in this letter. He obtained private subscriptions, but apparently to no great amount. He made an application to Congress, which was referred to a committee, who reported, that the three younger children of General Warren should be maintained at the public expense in a manner suitable to their rank in life, till they should come of age, and at that time one thousand pounds should be given to each as a portion. If this report was ever called up, it did not receive the sanction of Congress. Arnold persevered, however, in his solicitation, and at last the point was carried to allow for the support of these children the half-pay of a major-general from the date of their father's death, till the youngest should be of age.
General Warren had been dead five years, and the annual amount of half-pay was somewhat more than thirteen hundred dollars, making the sum due nearly seven thousand dollars besides the future stipend. In the congratulatory letter, which Arnold wrote to Miss Scollay on this event, only six weeks before the consummation of his treachery, he reiterated his ardent concern for the welfare of the children, but complained that his application to Congress had been opposed from the beginning by all the Massachusetts delegates except one. They looked upon the case as appertaining only to the State of Massachusetts, and as not coming within the jurisdiction of Congress. Others had the same opinion. The success of the measure, which every benevolent mind must heartily approve, may be fairly ascribed to the zeal and perseverance of Arnold.
On various occasions, from the first week of his arrival in Philadelphia, he had contrived to involve himself in difficulties with the President and Council of Pennsylvania, which, at the end of seven months, had become so formidable and aggravated as to draw from that body a severe public censure upon his conduct. At a meeting of the board it was unanimously resolved, that the tenor and course of his military command in the city had been "in many respects oppressive, unworthy of his rank and station, highly discouraging to those who had manifested an attachment to the liberties and interests of America, and disrespectful to the supreme executive authority of the State." At the same time the attorney-general was authorized to prosecute him for such "illegal and oppressive acts, as were cognizable in the courts of law." To show the grounds of these proceedings, and to present the subject in a tangible form, the Council issued eight articles, or charges, containing an enumeration of his offensive acts. Some of these were set forth as of a criminal nature, and they all implied a wilful abuse of power, disregard of the rights of the people, or an unjustifiable interference with the government of Pennsylvania.
General Arnold being a United States' officer, it was deemed proper to make an appeal to Congress; and accordingly a list of the charges, accompanied by a letter from the President of Pennsylvania and divers other papers, was laid before that assembly. In the usual course of business these documents were referred to a committee of inquiry. The result was a vindication of General Arnold from any criminality in the matters charged against him. It appeared, however, that a misunderstanding existed between the committee and the Council, which prevented the latter from furnishing such testimony as was necessary to sustain their articles of censure. For this reason, probably, the report of the committee was not acted upon by Congress; but, in accordance with an agreement between the parties, the subject was referred anew to a joint committee of Congress and of the Assembly and Council of Pennsylvania.
After some progress had been made in the investigation, and the business was found to be clogged with many embarrassments, it was proposed by the Council, that the affair should be put into the hands of the Commander-in-chief, and submitted to a military tribunal. This arrangement, having been agreed to by the joint committee, was approved by Congress; but it was decided that four of the charges only were cognizable by a court-martial. These were transmitted to General Washington, who ordered a court to be convened, appointed the time of trial, and gave notice of the same to the respective parties.
With this course Arnold was highly displeased, and he expressed himself in no measured terms of dissatisfaction, both in his letters to Congress and to General Washington. He affected to regard this disposition of the matter as a compromise between Congress and the authorities of Pennsylvania, and insinuated that he was sacrificed by the former to prevent a serious breach or collision with the latter. He complained of the injustice and partiality of Congress, in throwing aside the report of their own committee, by which he had been fully acquitted, and listening to the proposals of men, who, he said, were moved by personal enmity, and had practised unworthy artifices to cause delay. He acquiesced, however, and desired that the trial might be brought on as soon as possible, declaring his conviction, that justice would be rendered to him by a court-martial.
The Council of Pennsylvania were not ready for the trial at the time first appointed by General Washington, and it was put off at their request to give them time to collect evidence. Arnold considered this a subterfuge and an additional grievance. More than three months had elapsed since the charges were presented to Congress, a space of time amply sufficient in his opinion for making every necessary preparation. The demand of a longer period he represented as a pretence to delay the trial, and to keep him under the odium of a public accusation.
The form of the trial, as notified by the Commander-in-chief, was not acceptable to the Council. They were called on as the accusing party to defend their charges before the court-martial.
President Reed wrote a letter to General Washington, in the name of the Council, expressing surprise that such a turn should be given to the affair, and that they should be looked upon in the light of the prosecuting party. He said it had never been their intention to exhibit charges, but only to convey their sense of the conduct of General Arnold, and to state their reasons. It was no part of their purpose to become prosecutors. Duty required them to make known their opinion to General Arnold's superiors and to the public, but farther than this they did not consider themselves bound to go. And, indeed, they conceived it to be inconsistent with the dignity of the executive authority of a state to appear before a military tribunal and prosecute an individual, who was amenable to another power for his conduct. They thought it the business of Congress, or of the Commander-in-chief, to institute a form of trial, which should put the prosecution upon a different footing. That the course of justice might not be obstructed, however, by points of etiquette or punctilious scruples, they professed a willingness to proceed with the trial, according to the mode appointed by the Commander-inchief, requesting only such delay as would enable them to procure the proper testimony.
As soon as the committee of Congress had reported on the charges submitted by the Council of Pennsylvania, General Arnold resigned his command in Philadelphia. This occurred on the 18th of March, 1779. He had obtained permission of the Commander-in-chief to resign in January, but had deferred it, as he said in his letter to Congress, till the charges should be examined by that body, lest his enemies should misrepresent his motives, and ascribe his resignation to the fear of a disgraceful suspension in consequence of those charges. He was the more disappointed and vexed, therefore, that Congress, instead of calling up and sanctioning the report, yielded to the solicitation of his enemies for a military trial.
The day finally agreed upon for the assembling of the court-martial was the 1st of June. Head-quarters were then at Middlebrook. Unfortunately just at that time the enemy in New York gave indications of a sudden movement, either into New Jersey, or up the North River; and a council of war decided, that the exigency of the service required every officer to be at his post, and rendered it necessary to defer the courtmartial, till, in the judgment of the Commander-in-chief, the state of affairs would permit the members to be assembled. This renewed disappointment was severely felt by Arnold, as there was now but a slender hope, that the trial could take place during the campaign; while he in the mean time would be destitute of employment, and his character must suffer from the suspicions excited in the public mind by the charges, which had been promulgated against him. Patience was his only resource; and, while practising this virtue so adverse to his habits, he had ample leisure to brood over his ills, cherish the bitter recollections of the past, and mature schemes for the future, which opened the way and hurried him onward to his ruin.
Whether weary of a military life, or impelled by his pecuniary necessities, or from whatever cause, it appears that Arnold had actually meditated leaving the army before the difficulties with the Pennsylvania government had assumed the shape of a public censure upon his character. He had formed a project of obtaining a grant of land in the western part of New York, and of establishing a settlement for the officers and soldiers, who had served under him, and for such other persons as might choose to unite in the enterprise. The New York delegation in Congress approved his plan, and wrote a joint letter on the subject to Governor Clinton, soliciting his aid and counsel to obtain suitable patronage from the legislature. "To you, Sir," say they in the letter, "or to our State, General Arnold can require no recommendation; a series of distinguished services entitle him to respect and favor." They likewise represented, on general grounds, the policy of strengthening and guarding the frontier, by such a settlement as was contemplated.
Mr. Jay, then President of Congress, enforced the same application in a private letter to Governor Clinton, "How far his plan may coincide with the views of the legislature," he wrote, "I am at a loss to say. I wish, however, that in treating with him they may recollect the services he has rendered to his country, and the value of such a citizen to any state that may gain him. Several other general officers have thoughts of settling in our state, and the prevailing reason they assign for it is the preference of our constitution to that of other states. They consider it as having the principles of stability and vigor, as well as of liberty; advantages which the loose and less guarded kinds of government cannot promise. It certainly is our interest to encourage these predilections, by attention to those who hold them; and I have no doubt but that generosity to Arnold will be justice to the State." These testimonies show, that there was a division of opinion in Congress, and that Arnold numbered among his friends some of the ablest and best members. The spirit of party never raged with more violence within the walls of the old Congress, than at this period. Arnold's case was doubtless made worse, and his feelings irritated, by this circumstance.
He visited General Washington's camp in February, and it is supposed he extended his journey to the State of New York, and consulted Governor Clinton; but we hear no more of his project. It was absorbed at the time in the more engrossing concerns of his trial, and there was no subsequent opportunity for reviving it.
After resigning his command at Philadelphia, he continued to reside in that city, holding his commission in the army, but filling no public office. Either by the unpopularity of his character, or by his disagreeable manners, he rendered himself odious to the inhabitants, and one day when abroad he was assaulted by the populace. He immediately complained to Congress. "A mob of lawless ruffians," said he, "have attacked me in the street; and they threaten my life, now I am in my house, for defending myself when attacked. As there is no protection to be expected from the authority of the State for an honest man, I am under the necessity of requesting Congress to order me a guard of Continental troops. This request I presume will not be denied to a man, who has so often fought and bled in the defence of the liberties of his country." He asked for a guard of twenty men. Congress declined interfering, and referred him to the executive authority of Pennsylvania, not without a hint of displeasure at the insinuation in his note against the government of that State.
In reply he modified his meaning, and said he did not doubt the disposition of the executive of Pennsylvania to protect honest citizens, but he had no confidence in their ability to do it; since several persons had already been killed and wounded in an affray, notwithstanding the attempts of the civil authority to quell the disturbance. He renewed his request for a guard, and declared his belief, that his life was in danger from a mad, ignorant, and deluded rabble, whose rage and infatuation would drive them to any extreme of violence. As usual, he reminded Congress of his rank and services, and claimed to be protected by the troops, whom it had formerly been his happiness to command. This second application was unavailing, and he was left to such protection as he could obtain from the civil power of Pennsylvania.
The summer and autumn passed away, and his trial was still in suspense. At length, when the campaign was closed, and the army had retired into winter-quarters, General Washington gave notice to the parties concerned, that a court-martial would be assembled on the 20th of December in the vicinity of Morristown. The trial was commenced at that place accordingly, and it continued, with some short intermissions, till the 26th of January, 1780, when the court pronounced their verdict.
Several witnesses and much written testimony were patiently examined. Considering the grave purport of the charges, it must be allowed that the proofs, as they appear in the published proceedings, are not so clear and strong as might have been expected. Arnold's defence was studied, elaborate, and characteristic. He took up, one by one, the eight charges of the Council of Pennsylvania, although four of them only had been referred to the court, and attempted to refute them in detail. On some points he was successful, but, unfortunately for his cause, he weakened the force of his arguments and diminished the value of his facts, by making a parade of his patriotism, services, sacrifices, and wounds, and by enumerating his wrongs imaginary and real. He introduced letters from General Washington and resolves of Congress to show, that his conduct in the war had not only been approved but applauded, and thus aimed to draw the attention of the court aside from the true merits of the case by a series of particulars, which had no connexion with it.
"When the present necessary war against Great Britain commenced," said he, "I was in easy circumstances, and enjoyed a fair prospect of improving them. I was happy in domestic connexions, and blessed with a rising family, who claimed my care and attention. The liberties of my country were in danger. The voice of my country called on all her faithful sons to join in her defence. With cheerfulness I obeyed the call. I sacrificed domestic ease and happiness to the service of my country, and in her service have I sacrificed a great part of a handsome fortune. I was one of the first that appeared in the field, and from that time to the present hour I have not abandoned her service.
"When one is charged with practices, which his soul abhors, and which conscious innocence tells him he has never committed, an honest indignation will draw from him expressions in his own favor, which, on other occasions, might be ascribed to an ostentatious turn of mind. The part which I have acted in the American cause has been acknowledged by our friends and by our enemies to have been far from an indifferent one. My time, my fortune, and my person have been devoted to my country in this war; and, if the sentiments of those, who are supreme in the United States in civil and military affairs, are allowed to have any weight, my time, my fortune, and my person have not been devoted in vain." Again, in another part of his address to the court, after censuring his opponents, he added;—"On this occasion I think I may be allowed to say without vanity, that my conduct from the earliest period of the war to the present time has been steady and uniform. I have ever obeyed the calls of my country and stepped forth in her defence in every hour of danger, when many were deserting her cause, which appeared desperate. I have often bled in it; the marks that I bear are sufficient evidence of my conduct. The impartial public will judge of my services, and whether the returns I have met with are not tinctured with the basest ingratitude. Conscious of my own innocence, and the unworthy methods taken to injure me, I can with boldness say to my persecutors in general, and to the chief of them in particular, that in the hour of danger, when the affairs of America wore a gloomy aspect, when our illustrious General was retreating through New Jersey with a handful of men, I did not propose to my associates basely to quit the General and sacrifice the cause of my country to my personal safety, by going over to the enemy and making my peace."
The boastfulness and malignity of these declarations are obvious enough, but their consummate hypocrisy can be understood only by knowing the fact, that, at the moment they were uttered, he had been eight months in secret correspondence with the enemy, and was prepared, if not resolved, when the first opportunity should offer, to desert and betray his country. No suspicions of such a purpose being entertained, these effusions were regarded as the offspring of vanity and the natural acerbity of his temper. They now afford a remarkable evidence of the duplicity of his character, and of the art with which he concealed the blackest schemes of wickedness under the guise of pretended virtue, and boast of immaculate innocence.
After the trial was finished, the court took due time to consider the testimony, and decided apparently without passion or bias. Of two charges he was wholly acquitted. The two others were sustained in part, but not so far as to imply, in the opinion of the court, a criminal intention. When Arnold was at Valley Forge, a short time before the evacuation of Philadelphia, he gave a written protection for a vessel then at that city to proceed to sea and enter any port within the United States. The vessel belonged to persons, who had taken the oath of allegiance to the State of Pennsylvania. Considering the circumstances of the case, and especially that the vessel was in a port held by the enemy, and that the protection was granted without the knowledge of the Commander-in-chief, who was then in camp, the proceeding was deemed irregular and at variance with one of the articles of war.
Again, while acting in his official station, General Arnold had employed the public wagons of Pennsylvania for the transportation of private property from Egg Harbor. This was looked upon as a serious offence by the Council, and as of a very dangerous tendency, since the demands for this kind of service in transporting supplies for the army were so constant and pressing, as to excite a good deal of repugnance to it in the minds of the people, by whom it must be performed; and, should they receive the impression that their efforts, ostensibly solicited for public objects, were secretly diverted to private purposes, it would be extremely difficult to secure them in times of necessity. On the other hand it was proved to the court, that, although the wagons had been employed for transporting private property, they were nevertheless used at private expense, without any design to defraud the public, or impede the military service. The court were of the opinion, however, that, considering the high station in which General Arnold acted at the time, and the effect of his requests under the circumstances in which he was placed, the transaction was imprudent and improper.
On these grounds, and with reference to these two charges only, the Court sentenced him to be reprimanded by the Commander-in-chief.
[CHAPTER IX.]
His expensive Style of Living and pecuniary Embarrassments.—First Ideas of betraying his Country.—Application to the French Ambassador.—Marriage.—Takes Command at West Point.
The decision of the court-martial was received with an ill grace by General Arnold, and with concealed emotions of deep resentment. He had loudly expressed a conviction, and perhaps he had actually persuaded himself into a belief, that a military tribunal would acquit him honorably of all the charges. In the same degree, that he had allowed himself to be flattered with this sanguine anticipation, was the rankling of the wound now inflicted on his self-complacency and pride. He submitted to the reprimand, however, in sullen reserve and with a pretended acquiescence.
General Washington, in performing the duty imposed on him as the head of the army, exercised all the delicacy, which he thought due to an officer so highly distinguished by his rank and bravery, and which was likewise conformable to his own character and feelings. The language employed on the occasion, as preserved by M. de Marbois, was as follows. "Our profession 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 yourself 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." Terms more soothing, or better suited to operate on a noble and generous mind, could hardly be chosen. But they had no effect on the irritated and relentless temper of Arnold. He was equally deaf to the counsels of wisdom, the admonitions of friendship, and the appeals of honor. He had already made secret advances to the enemy under a feigned name, intending to square his future conduct according to circumstances, and prepared, should the court decide against him, to seek revenge at any hazard. From the moment he harbored such a thought in his breast he was a lost man. Honor, virtue, sincerity, love of country, love of fame, all were gone. His companionship was with despair and guilt.
Dissembling his real motives, after being restored to his former standing in the army, he asked permission of absence during the summer, assigning as a reason, that his private affairs were deranged and required his attention, that there was little prospect of an active campaign, and that his wounds were not yet in a condition to enable him to endure the fatigues of the field. Washington readily granted his request, and he returned to Philadelphia.
From the time he took the command in that city he had lived in a style of splendor and extravagance, which was wholly unsuited to his fortune or any reasonable expectancy. He established himself in a magnificent house, formerly occupied by the Penn family, furnished it expensively, drove his coach and four, and indulged in every kind of ostentatious profusion, which could gratify his vanity and his passion for luxury and parade. When M. Gerard, the French ambassador, first arrived in Philadelphia, he was entertained at a public dinner given by General Arnold; and, for several days afterwards, the ambassador and his suite occupied apartments as guests in his house.
This style of living could not be maintained without funds. Debts were contracted, and temporary supplies were thus procured; but a declining credit soon produced a conviction of improvidence, and excited forebodings, which even Arnold could not contemplate with unconcern. Too proud to acknowledge his folly by abandoning it, and too desperate to be governed by the plain rules of integrity or prudence, he resorted to all the methods for acquiring money, which his ingenuity could devise or his high station put in his power. Among these were some by no means creditable to his principles, or consistent with his rank as an officer. He entered into petty speculations and practised unworthy artifices for gain in small matters as well as great. He united with others in privateering enterprises and various commercial projects of hazard. The results were frequently unfortunate, and the losses outweighed the profits. On one occasion, when Count d'Estaing approached the American coast, and it was supposed the British would be driven from New York, he formed a copartnership with two other individuals for purchasing goods within the enemy's lines, to the amount of thirty thousand pounds sterling. Although there was nothing positively wrong in this transaction, yet it was one in which a major-general of the American service, holding at that time an important command, could not be reputably engaged.
In the midst of his embarrassments, about a month after his trial, he renewed a petition to Congress for a settlement of his accounts. These had already been referred to commissioners, who made a report; and the accounts were then sent to the Treasury Board for settlement. The original difficulties, however, were not removed. Arnold insisted on his old claims, quarrelled with the members of Congress who doubted them, and wearied the others with his importunities and complaints, till his enemies were provoked and disgusted at his effrontery, and the patience of his friends was worn out. Indeed, the affair had grown into such a state of perplexity, that the prospect of a satisfactory termination was more clouded, and seemed more distant, than ever.
Already abandoned to the impulse of passion, disappointed, chagrined, and pressed by his wants, he resolved to unburden his griefs to the French envoy, M. de la Luzerne, and apply to him for pecuniary aid. That minister, having an admiration of his bravery and military talents, and believing generous usage the best means of reclaiming such a man from his errors, was accustomed to treat him with marked civility, and had shown no change in his deportment after the censure of the court-martial and the disgrace of a reprimand. Encouraged by this amenity and kindness, Arnold approached him with confidence, and expressed his sentiments and wishes without reserve.
The interview has been described with graphic minuteness by M. de Marbois, who was then secretary to the French legation, and who, if he was not present, must have learned the particulars from the minister himself. Arnold spoke of his disinterested services, his sacrifices, his wounds; he complained of the ingratitude of his country, the injustice of Congress, and the persecuting malice of his enemies. The war, he said, in which he had borne so large a share, had ruined his private affairs; and he added, that, unless he could borrow money to the amount of his debts, he should be obliged to go into retirement, and quit a profession, which rewarded him only with poverty. He intimated, in short, that it would be for the interest of the French King to secure the attachment and gratitude of an American general so high in rank, and that these might be purchased by the favor of such a loan as he desired.
The minister listened to this discourse with pain, but he answered with the frankness of a true friend, and the firmness of an honorable and honest mind. "You desire of me a service," said he, "which it would be easy for me to render, but which would degrade us both. When the envoy of a foreign power gives, or, if you will, lends money, it is ordinarily to corrupt those who receive it, and to make them the creatures of the sovereign, whom he serves; or rather he corrupts without persuading; he buys and does not secure. But the firm league entered into between the King and the United States is the work of justice and of the wisest policy. It has for its basis a reciprocal interest and good-will. In the mission, with which I am charged, my true glory consists in fulfilling it without intrigue or cabal, without resorting to any secret practices, and by the force alone of the conditions of the alliance." The effect of this plainness of speech upon the haughty and irritable temper of Arnold may be imagined.
But M. de la Luzerne did not content himself with refusing to give the bribe, and condemning the principles from which such a request emanated. He hoped to do more, and to win back to the path of duty and rectitude a man, who, by the force of his own resources and talents, had built up a reputation that had gained the applause of the world, and who was still capable of rendering important services to his country. With this view he addressed him in the language of expostulation and advice, reminding him that murmurs and resentments at the acts of public bodies, and the persecutions of political opponents, were the evidences of a weak rather than of a great mind resting on its own dignity and power; that a consciousness of innocence was his best support; and that a generous disregard of the artifices of his enemies, when his country's interests were at stake, was one of the strongest proofs he could give, that he deserved the respect and confidence of that portion of his fellow citizens, whose good opinion was most to be valued. He recurred to the renown of his former exploits, appealed to his sense of patriotism and honor, his love of glory, and represented in the most attractive colors the wide field of action yet before him, if he would suppress his anger, rise above misfortune, bear his troubles with fortitude, and unite, heart and hand, with his compatriots to finish the great work, in which he had already labored with so much credit to himself and benefit to his country.
These counsels had no weight with Arnold; he wanted money and not advice. He went away from the French minister indignant at the rebuff he had met with, mortified at his ill success, and, if his sensibility was not callous, oppressed with shame at so unguarded and ineffectual an exposure of his meanness. From that moment his purpose was fixed. Hitherto his intercourse with the enemy, though of several months' continuance, had been without a definite aim; clothed in such a shape, that it might be consummated or dropped according to the complexion of future events. The point was now reached, at which it was hopeless to deliberate, and pusillanimous to waver. Pride, vexation, revenge, hurried him to the fatal determination of betraying his country, as the last refuge of despair. It only remained for him to settle in his mind the manner in which this could so be done, as to produce the greatest advantage to himself, and injury to the cause he was about to desert. It was obvious, that the favor he might expect from his new friends would be in proportion to the harm he should do to their enemies.
In this train of reflection he thought of the command at West Point, as presenting the fairest opportunity for accomplishing his ends. It was a separate command, a very important post, and accessible to the enemy by water. His resolution being taken, all his views and efforts thenceforward were directed to that single object.