The Great Republic by the Master Historians The Treason of Arnold byBancroft, Hubert H.
[During the year 1780 military operations were mainly confined to the South. The
year opened with a very unfavorable show for the American cause. The alliance
with France had not produced the results anticipated, the two years' operations
of the French fleet having proved nearly useless to the Americans. The army was
low in numbers, and miserably clothed; the country was without money or credit,
and its paper currency greatly reduced in value. On the other hand, England had
money in abundance, while the military and naval force voted for the year
consisted of eighty-five thousand seamen and thirty-five thousand soldiers, in
addition to those already abroad.
The earliest British operation in 1780 was the siege of Charleston, which was
conducted by General Clinton, aided by a fleet which forced its way into the
harbor. On the 12th of May the city was forced to surrender, and General Lincoln
and the garrison became prisoners of war. From this point expeditions were sent
into the country. One of these seized the important post of Ninety-Six, others
scoured the State in various directions, and the cavalry under the remorseless
Colonel Tarleton cut to pieces a body of four hundred Americans who were
retreating towards North Carolina. The province seeming reduced to tranquillity,
Clinton left Lord Cornwallis in command, and returned to New York with a large
body of his troops.
Yet the people were not so tranquil as they seemed. Bold guerillabands soon
collected, which gave the invaders unceasing annoyance. Chief among the daring
leaders of these bands was Colonel Sumter, a dashing warrior, who not only
gained minor successes, but surprised and completely defeated a large force of
regulars and tories at Hanging Rock. Another of these active partisan leaders
was Francis Marion, a man who has become a hero of modern romance, and who, with
a force rarely exceeding from twenty to seventy men, gave the British endless
trouble. Dashing from swamp or forest on the foe when in unconscious security,
he hesitated not to attack bodies of British and tories two hundred strong, and
usually with marked success. Self-possessed, prudent, yet daring, he took the
greatest risks, yet never rashly or without judgment, and was alike successful
in attack and in escape from pursuing forces.
Meanwhile, General Gates had been sent with a strong army from the North, for
the relief of the Southern provinces. He met Cornwallis at Camden, South
Carolina, each party seeking to surprise the other. In the battle that ensued
the militia quickly gave way, and the regiments which held their ground were
overwhelmed and broken by force of numbers. The rout became general, and the
Americans suffered a loss of about one thousand men, with all their artillery
and ammunition-wagons. Gates retreated to North Carolina, and Sumter's corps was
soon after surprised and routed with great slaughter by Tarleton. The province
now seemed again reduced, and Cornwallis adopted very severe measures to hold it
in subjection. Yet Sumter was soon in the field again, Marion displayed an
annoying activity, and a party of tories who had been levied in North Carolina
and who committed great atrocities were assailed at King's Mountain by a party
of militia and defeated with a loss of three hundred killed and wounded and
eight hundred prisoners, the American loss being not more than twenty.
These active operations in the South had no counterpart in the North. In the
previous year the British force had been withdrawn from Rhode Island, and only
some slight excursions from New York took place. In July, Count de Rochambeau,
with a powerful French fleet, arrived at Newport; but no enterprise of
importance was undertaken, and the high hopes of aid from the French alliance
still proved futile. Yet one event of the highest interest and importance
occurred in the North in the autumn of this year,-the treason of Benedict
Arnold.
This treasonable act had been long premeditated. Passionate, discontented,
constantly persuaded that he was neglected and ill treated by Congress,
demanding from that body more than it could or would grant, his disaffection
grew extreme. While in command in Philadelphia in 1778, his "illegal and
oppressive acts" drew on him the censure of the Council of Pennsylvania, and
finally subjected him to a trial by court-martial, which sentenced him to a
reprimand from the commander-in-chief. By this time his treasonable sentiments
were fully grown, and he began a secret correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton,
through the medium of Major Andre. Arnold assumed the name of Gustavus, and
Andre of John Anderson. These letters were disguised under the form of
mercantile communications.
Arnold, who wished to injure the American cause and enhance the value of his
services to the British as much as possible, now applied for the command of West
Point, a post of the utmost value both from its location and from the extensive
supply of military stores which it held and covered. His application for this
post was heard with surprise by Washington, but was finally granted. He at once
privately engaged to deliver West Point to the enemy for ten thousand pounds
sterling and a brigadier's commission in the British army. In the negotiations
for this purpose Major Andre acted as the agent of Sir Henry Clinton. He
ascended the Hudson in the sloop-of-war Vulture, secretly landed, and held a
conference with Arnold, in which the terms of the treasonable action were
arranged. It proving difficult and dangerous to regain the Vulture, Andre was
obliged to attempt a return by land. The events which succeeded we select from
Spark's "Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold."]
Having no means of getting to the vessel, Andre was compelled to seek his way
back by land. The safest route was supposed to be across the river and in the
direction of White Plains. Smith agreed to attend him on the way till he should
be out of danger from the American posts. Thus far Arnold's passports would
protect them.
All his entreaties being without avail, and having no other resort, Andre
submitted to the necessity of his situation, and resolved to pursue the route by
land. Arnold had prevailed upon him, in case he took this course, to exchange
his military coat for a citizen's dress. It was feared that if he was discovered
in the uniform of a British officer he might be stopped, and perhaps meet with
trouble. And here again Smith was made the dupe of Arnold's artifices. When he
expressed surprise that a man in a civil capacity and on an errand of business
should come from New York in such a dress, Arnold told him that it was owing to
the pride and vanity of Anderson, who wished to make a figure as a man of
consequence, and had borrowed a coat from a military acquaintance. Upon this
representation Smith gave one of his coats in exchange, which Andre put on,
leaving his own behind. Thus clad, and covered as before with his dark great-
coat, which had a wide cape buttoned close in the neck, and the appearance of
having been much worn, Andre was equipped for the journey.
A little before sunset he and Smith set off, accompanied by a negro servant
belonging to the latter. They proceeded to King's Ferry, and crossed the river
from Stony Point to Verplanck's Point. On their way to the ferry they met
several persons who were known to Smith, and with whom he conversed, accosting
them in a gay and jocular humor, and assuming an air of ease and unconcern. He
even stopped at a sutler's tent near the ferry, and contributed to the merriment
of a party of loungers by assisting them in drinking a bowl of punch. Andre said
nothing, but walked his horse slowly along, and was waiting at the ferry when
his companion overtook him. Smith had tried, while on the road, to draw him into
conversation about the taking of Stony Point the year before, and such other
topics as he thought would interest him; but he was reserved and thoughtful,
uttering brief replies, and showing no inclination to be interrogated or to talk
upon any subject.
[At a late hour in the evening they were stopped by a patrolling party, led by
Captain Boyd, who proved so inquisitive as to give them much annoyance. He was
anxious to learn from Smith the "important business" that brought them out,
warned them that the Cowboys were out below, and strongly advised them not to
proceed till morning. they took his advice, partly perhaps to avoid exciting
suspicion, and sought the house of one Andreas Miller, where they were told they
might find quarters for the night.]
They met with a welcome reception, but, coming at a late hour to a humble
dwelling, their accommodations were narrow, and the two travellers were obliged
to sleep in the same bed. According to Smith's account, it was a weary and
restless night to his companion. The burden on his thoughts was not of a kind to
lull him to repose; and the place of his retreat, so near the watchful Captain
Boyd and his guards, was hardly such as would impress upon him a conviction of
perfect security. At the first dawn of light he roused himself from his troubled
slumbers, waked the servant, and ordered the horses to be prepared for an early
departure.
Having solicited their host in vain to receive a compensation for the civilities
he had rendered, they mounted and took the road leading to Pine's Bridge. The
countenance of Andre brightened when he was fairly beyond the reach of the
patrolling party, and, as he thought, had left behind him the principal
difficulties in his route. His cheerfulness revived, and he conversed in the
most animated and agreeable strain upon a great variety of topics. Smith
professes to have been astonished at the sudden and extraordinary change which
appeared in him, from a gloomy taciturnity to an exuberant flow of spirits,
pleasantry, and gay discourse. He talked upon poetry, the arts, and literature,
lamented the war, and hoped for a speedy peace. In this manner they passed
along, without being accosted by any person, till they came within two miles and
a half of Pine's Bridge.
[At this place Smith decided that he would go no farther. The Cow-boys had
recently been seen in that locality, and he did not care to fall into their
hands. He therefore took leave of Andre, and returned with all speed to his
home. On his way he saw Arnold, and gave him an account of the progress of his
late companion, of whose true name and actual purpose he was in total ignorance.
The Cow-boys were a set of plunderers, belonging to the British side, who
infested the neutral ground between the outposts of the two armies. They were
opposed by another set of bandits, called Skinners, professedly on the American
side. The populous territory, some thirty miles in width, which formed the field
of operations of these merciless scoundrels, was a dangerous locality for a man
in Andre's situation to cross. After parting from Smith he left the road to
White Plains, and took the Tarrytown road, having reason to believe that he
would there meet with Cow-boys, with whom he hoped to be safe.
It happened that same morning that seven patriotic young men had stationed
themselves in ambush on this road, with the object of intercepting suspicious
persons, or droves of cattle, that might be seen passing towards New York. Three
of them were concealed in the bushes near the road.]
About half a mile north of the village of Tarrytown, and a few hundred yards
from the bank of Hudson's River, the road crosses a small brook, from each side
of which the ground rises into a hill, and it was at that time covered over with
trees and underbrush. Eight or ten rods south of this brook, and on the west
side of the road, these men were hidden; and at that point Andre was stopped,
after having travelled from Pine's Bridge without interruption.
The particulars of this event I shall here introduce, as they are narrated in
the testimony given by Paulding and Williams at Smith's trial, written down at
the time by the judge-advocate, and preserved in manuscript among the other
papers. This testimony having been taken only eleven days after the capture of
Andre, when every circumstance must have been fresh in the recollection of his
captors, it may be regarded as exhibiting a greater exactness in its details
than any account hitherto published. In answer to the question of the court,
Paulding said,--
"Myself, Isaac Van Wart, and David Williams were lying by the side of the road
about half a mile above Tarrytown, and about fifteen miles above Kingsbridge, on
Saturday morning, between nine and ten o'clock, the 23d of September. We had
lain there about an hour and a half, as near as I can recollect, and saw several
persons we were acquainted with, whom we let pass. Presently one of the young
men who were with me said, `There comes a gentlemanlike-looking man, who appears
to be well dressed, and has boots on, and whom you had better step out and stop,
if you don't know him.' On that I got up, and presented my firelock at the
breast of the person, and told him to stand; and then I asked him which way he
was going. `Gentlemen,' said he, `I hope you belong to our party.' I asked him
what party. He said, `The Lower Party.' Upon that I told him I did. Then he
said, `I am a British officer out of the country on particular business, and I
hope you will not detain me a minute;' and to show that he was a British officer
he pulled out his watch. Upon which I told him to dismount. He then said, `My
God, I must do anything to get along,' and seemed to make a kind of laugh of it,
and pulled out General Arnold's pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all
guards to White Plains and below. Upon that he dismounted. Said he, `Gentlemen,
you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves into trouble, for your
stopping me will detain the general's business,' and said he was going to Dobb's
Ferry to meet a person there and get intelligence for General Arnold. Upon that
I told him I hoped he would not be offended, that we did not mean to take
anything from him; and I told him there were many bad people, who were going
along the road, and I did not know but perhaps he might be one."
When further questioned, Paulding replied that he asked the person his name, who
told him it was John Anderson, and that when Anderson produced General Arnold's
pass he should have let him go, if he had not before called himself a British
officer. Paulding also said that when the person pulled out his watch he
understood it as a signal that he was a British officer, and not that he meant
to offer it to him as a present.
All these particulars were substantially confirmed by David Williams, whose
testimony in regard to the searching of Andre, being more minute than
Paulding's, is here inserted.
"We took him into the bushes," said Williams, "and ordered him to pull off his
clothes, which he did; but on searching him narrowly we could not find any sort
of writings. We told him to pull off his boots, which he seemed to be
indifferent about; but we got one boot off, and searched in that boot, and could
find nothing. But we found there were some papers in the bottom of his stocking
next to his foot; on which we made him pull his stocking off, and found there
papers wrapped up. Mr. Paulding looked at the contents, and said he was a spy.
We then made him pull off his other boot, and there we found three more papers
at the bottom of his foot within his stocking.
"Upon this we made him dress himself, and I asked him what he would give us to
let him go. He said he would give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he
would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one hundred guineas. He
said, `Yes,' and told us he would direct them to any place, even if it was that
very spot, so that we could get them. I asked him whether he would give us more.
He said he would give us any quantity of dry goods, or any sum of money, and
bring it to any place that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it. Mr.
Paulding answered, `No, if you would give us ten thousand guineas, you should
not stir one step.' I then asked the person, who had called himself John
Anderson, if he would not get away if it lay in his power. He answered, `Yes, I
would.' I told him I did not intend he should. While taking him along we asked
him a few questions, and we stopped under a shade. He begged us not to ask him
questions, and said when he came to any commander he would reveal all.
"He was dressed in a blue overcoat, and a tight bodycoat, that was of a kind of
claret color, though a rather deeper red than claret. The button-holes were
laced with gold tinsel, and the buttons drawn over with the same kind of lace.
He had on a round hat, and nankeen waistcoat and breeches, with a flannel
waistcoat and drawers, boots, and thread stockings."
The nearest military post was at North Castle, where Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson
was stationed with a part of Sheldon's regiment of dragoons. To that place it
was resolved to take the prisoner; and within a few hours he was delivered up to
Jameson, with all the papers that had been taken from his boots.
[Jameson, finding the suspicious papers to be in Arnold's hand-writing, and not
comprehending all that the incident signified, sent Andre under guard to Arnold,
together with a letter explaining the circumstance. He was induced to recall
this order and detain Andre, but the letter went on. Meanwhile, Washington had
arrived in the vicinity of West Point, and sent forward two of his aides to
advise Arnold of his approach. They reached there just before the letter from
Jameson arrived.]
When the aides arrived at Arnold's house, they found breakfast waiting, as had
been supposed. It being now ascertained that Washington and the other gentlemen
would not be there, General Arnold, his family, and the aides-de-camp sat down
to breakfast. Before they arose from the table, a messenger came with a letter
for Arnold, which he broke open and read in presence of the company. It was the
letter which Colonel Jameson had written two days before and despatched by
Lieutenant Allen, and it contained the first intelligence received by Arnold of
the capture of Andre. His emotion can be more easily imagined than described. So
great was his control over himself, however, that he concealed it from the
persons present; and, although he seemed a little agitated for the moment, yet
not to such a degree as to excite a suspicion that anything extraordinary had
happened. He told the aides-de-camp that his immediate attendance was required
at West Point, and desired them to say to General Washington, when he arrived,
that he was unexpectedly called over the river and should very soon return. He
ordered a horse to be ready, and then, leaving the table hastily, he went up to
Mrs. Arnold's chamber and sent for her. With a brevity demanded by the occasion,
he told her that they must instantly part, perhaps to meet no more, and that his
life depended on his reaching the enemy's lines without detection. Struck with
horror at this intelligence, so abruptly divulged, she swooned and fell
senseless. In that state he left her, hurried down-stairs, mounted a horse
belonging to one of his aides that stood saddled at the door, and rode alone
with all speed to the bank of the river. He there entered a boat, and directed
the oarsmen to push out to the middle of the stream.
The boat was rowed by six men, who, having no knowledge of Arnold's intentions,
promptly obeyed his orders. He quickened their activity by saying that he was
going down the river and on board the Vulture with a flag, and that he was in
great haste, as he expected General Washington at his house and wished to return
as expeditiously as possible to meet him there. He also added another
stimulating motive, by promising them two gallons of rum if they would exert
themselves with all their strength. As they approached King's Ferry, Arnold
exposed to view a white handkerchief, and ordered the men to row directly to the
Vulture, which was now in sight, a little below the place it had occupied when
Andre left it. The signal held out by Arnold, while the boat was passing
Verplanck's Point, caused Colonel Livingston to regard it as a flagboat, and
prevented him from ordering it to be stopped and examined.
The boat reached the Vulture unobstructed in its passage; and after Arnold had
gone on board and introduced himself to Captain Sutherland, he called the leader
of the boatmen into the cabin and informed him that he and his companions were
prisoners. The boatmen, who had capacity and spirit, said they were not
prisoners, that they came on board with a flag of truce, and under the same
sanction they would return. He then appealed to the captain, demanding justice
and a proper respect for the rules of honor. Arnold replied that all this was
nothing to the purpose,- that they were prisoners and must remain on board.
Captain Sutherland, disdaining so pitiful an action, though he did not interfere
with the positive command of Arnold, told the man that he would take his parole,
and he might go on shore and procure clothes and whatever else was wanted for
himself and his companions. This was accordingly done the same day. When these
men arrived in New York, Sir Henry Clinton, holding in just contempt such a
wanton act of meanness, set them all at liberty.
[We have not space to give in detail the interesting events that succeeded. Some
time elapsed before Arnold's flight was discovered, but when it was known, and
the contents of the papers found on Andre were revealed, the whole conspiracy
stood bare. Much sympathy was felt for Andre, and earnest efforts were made by
Clinton and others to obtain for him a respite from the fate which awaited him.
Washington was full of feeling for him, considering him a young man of great
promise and ability, but his feeling for his country was greater. It would be
unsafe to permit such an act to escape its proper penalty, and in his answer to
Clinton he signified that Andre could be released only on condition that Arnold
should be delivered up to take his place. This could not be complied with, and
Andre was hung as a spy, at noon of October 2, 1781.]
