Defiant Brides: The Untold Story of Two Revolutionary-Era Women and the Radical Men They Married

by Nancy Rubin Stuart

  Arnold was ecstatic. Indeed, he would fulfill Washington’s expectations for “intelligence of the enemy’s motions” but not as the commander in chief had intended.

  With Washington’s announcement, relief swept over Peggy. In contrast, his sister Hannah was appalled. Apparently Arnold had written to her in August that, while Peggy and his infant son “Neddy” would join him at West Point, she should remain in Philadelphia with the nearly eight-year-old Henry, the youngest son from Arnold’s first marriage. Infuriated that she and the boy were not included (the older ones being in boarding school), Hannah retorted, “Ill nature I leave it you, as you have discovered yourself to be a perfect master of it. Witness yours of August 18th.” Nor did she see any advantage to Arnold’s relocation. “As you have neither purling streams nor sighing swains at West Point, ’tis no place for me; nor do I think Mrs. Arnold will be long pleased with it.”38

  Then, in a vicious snipe at Peggy, Hannah added, “Though I expect it may be rendered dear to her for a few hours by the presence of a certain chancellor; who, by the by, is a dangerous companion for a particular lady in the absence of her husband.” In fact, Hannah continued, “I could say more than prudence will permit. I could tell you of frequent private assignations and of numberless billets doux, if I had an inclination to make mischief. But as I am of a very peaceable temper I’ll not mention a syllable of the matter.”39

  The “certain chancellor” Hannah alluded to was Robert R. Livingston, with whom Peggy had flirted to win support for Arnold’s command of West Point.

  Subsequent to his arrival at West Point on a rainy August 5, Arnold noted the fort’s crumbling walls, decayed nearby forts, and lackluster protection from 1,500 men. Guns, magazines, wagons, horses, and stockpiles of food remained in short supply. In an effort to secure supplies for the British, Arnold wrote Thomas Pickering, the newly appointed quartermaster general, on August 16, “Everything is wanting. . . . The barracks here will not contain more than eight hundred men or any kind of camp equipment; there is not a tent at West Point, and it is with great difficulty that one can be made to cover the troops . . . without these supplies the garrison will be in a wretched uncomfortable situation next winter.”40 Arnold’s subsequent letter to Washington (copied to the British) also explained that West Point’s six-foot walls offered little protection. The garrison, he explained, could easily be attacked from the land side by transporting cannons on back-country roads from the south.

  Still British general Clinton remained so wary of Arnold’s reliability that he had ordered spies to track Arnold’s movement through Connecticut and New York that summer. By late August 1780, convinced that the American turncoat’s proposals were sincere, Clinton finally agreed to pay Arnold £20,000—but on one condition: the British must be assured they could capture three thousand soldiers at West Point.

  For Arnold, that was nearly a deal-breaker. In an attempt to further weaken the garrison, he had ordered hundreds of soldiers to the surrounding region to perform trivial tasks: chopping wood and making bricks. Ironically, the unsuspecting Washington then played into Clinton’s demands by dispatching one of Knox’s artillery units to West Point, swelling the troop count to three thousand men.

  Still, Arnold remained on edge. A network of spies and double agents roamed the territory between the Hudson Highlands and New York City, and might report his schemes to the patriots. André, too, worried, fearing that at the last minute the traitor might bolt. To quickly conclude the capture of West Point, André urged a secret meeting. It would take place at Dobbs Ferry on the Hudson’s eastern shore, well below West Point. To that Arnold had eagerly agreed. On Sunday, September 10, he consequently sailed downriver for an overnight stay at Belmont, the manor house of Hudson River landowner and attorney Joshua Hett Smith.

  Simultaneously, André sailed upriver on the Vulture, a British sloop of war, accompanied by the graying Colonel Beverly Robinson, one of New York’s most wealthy and powerful Loyalists. As commander of West Point, Arnold had deliberately chosen to live at Robinson’s abandoned country house. That property, two miles south of West Point on the opposite shore (modern-day Garrison, New York), provided perfect cover for meetings with Robinson, who would allegedly plead to reclaim his property from Arnold.

  Ultimately, a series of failed communications prevented the September 11 meeting between André and Arnold. As Arnold’s barge appeared on the horizon near Dobbs Ferry that Monday morning, British gunboats stationed upriver of the Vulture, knowing nothing about the rendezvous, fired. Frantically Arnold’s oarsman headed for shore, after which the general waited for hours for André’s all-clear message. On the opposite shore, André waited for a similar message from Arnold. Finally both men gave up.

  Three days later, Arnold boarded the barge again and continued downriver to Smith’s manor house to await the arrival of Peggy and their infant, Neddy, from Philadelphia. A quarter of a century later, Smith claimed in his memoir that he felt honored to have hosted the famous general and his family overnight. Only later, Smith insisted, had he learned the truth. “Little did I then conceive I was dispensing hospitality to a man whose defection from the cause . . . afterwards astonished the whole world.”41

  Smith’s defense has long been questioned. His eldest brother, William, a former royal chief justice of New York, had not only defected to the British but was one of General Clinton’s closest advisors. That, in turn, heightened suspicions among the patriots that other members of the Smith family were Tories. Hostilities ran so high against the Smiths, Joshua later claimed, that he and his wife, Elizabeth Gordon, escaped to his Hudson River property. Indeed, one of Smith’s motives for ingratiating himself with Arnold involved his hopes for extra protection or “motives of security.”42 Sensing the attorney’s vulnerability, the crippled general had accordingly drawn Smith aside.

  In a few days, Arnold explained, he intended to meet a certain British gentleman on a business matter. Would Smith be willing to row that man and Robinson from the Vulture to his home on Haverstraw Bay? Assured the meeting was legal and conducted under a flag of truce, Smith agreed. To ensure confidentiality, the attorney even promised to clear the manor house by escorting his wife and nephews to relatives in Fishkill.

  That Thursday, September 14, Arnold’s aide, David Franks, arrived with “the greatest treasure you have”—his wife, Peggy.43 The young mother had arrived weary from a bumpy, ten-day journey with her servant, a slave who drove the carriage, and a baby nurse for her son, Neddy. Just before the trip, the baby had apparently hurt his head, for Peggy’s sister-in-law, Hannah, had referred to Neddy as “the poor little sore-headed boy” in one of her notes.44

  Arnold’s passionate love for Peggy, whose “life and happiness” meant all, as even Hannah admitted, inspired him to plan every detail of her trip along with providing her with a list of travel instructions.45 Among them, “You must by all means get out of your carriage in crossing all ferries and going over all large bridges to prevent accidents.” Peggy must also use her own sheets in lieu of the soiled ones often found at inns. Since it was summer, Arnold also advised his wife to “put a feather bed in the light wagon which will make an easy seat, and you will find it cooler and pleasanter to ride in when the roads are smooth than a closed carriage.” She must also avoid long carriage rides, which “might fatigue you or the dear boy.”46

  Franks was also ordered to stay either at certain inns or with any of several of Arnold’s acquaintances. By the fifth night of the trip, Peggy and her party were advised to stay at a gentleman’s farm near Paramus, the Hermitage. There they would be hosted by Anne Watkins and her daughter, Theodosia Prevost. The latter, the twenty-nine-year-old mother of five, was married to British officer James Marcus Prevost, then stationed in South Carolina. In spite of the usual hostilities towards Loyalists, Theodosia and her mother had shrewdly escaped eviction. Subsequent to the June 28, 1778, Battle of Monmouth, Theodosia had invited General Washington to rest at the Hermitage, where, she promised
, the “accommodations will be more commodious than those to be procured in the neighborhood” and assured Washington that she would be “particularly happy to make her house agreeable to His Excellency, and family.”47

  Washington, knowing that the family was politically divided, had accepted that invitation. During his stay at the Hermitage, from July 11 to 14, the commander in chief had supervised care of his wounded men, planned the army’s next move, and tended to other military business. Meanwhile, his officers flirted with Theodosia’s female relatives and guests. One such officer was twenty-two-year-old James Monroe, who described Theodosia as “a lady full of affection, of tenderness and sensibility, separated from her husband, for a series of time by the cruelty of the war . . . fortitude under distress, cheerfulness, life and gayety, in the midst of affliction.”48

  PART II

  Tender Wives

  6

  “As Good and Innocent as an Angel”

  “PLEASE TO PRESENT MY best respects to Mrs. Knox,” Arnold wrote Knox on August 8, 1780, four days after assuming command of West Point. “A line from you at any time when you are at leisure will be very acceptable,” he added, hoping to wheedle more military information from Knox.1

  The Continental army was then in crisis, its ranks dwindled to 10,000 men, its supplies nearly exhausted, and morale at its lowest ebb since the start of the Revolution. Not only had the British conquered Charleston in May but only 5,300 French soldiers and 7,000 French sailors had arrived in Newport, Rhode Island, in mid-July—many fewer than anticipated. No sooner were General Rochambeau (Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur) and Admiral Ternay (Charles-Henri-Louis d’Arsac) settled than they heard about the army’s wretched condition. That, combined with reports about America’s bankrupt credit, led them to stall in Rhode Island rather than embrace Washington’s plan for a joint attack on British New York. “Send us troops, ships and money but do not depend on these people nor upon their means. They have neither money nor credit,” General Rochambeau warned France’s foreign minister, Vergennes, also known as Charles Gravier.2

  By Thursday, September 14, after weeks of embarrassment and delay, Washington agreed to meet the French leaders in Connecticut. “I shall be at Peekskill,” he informed Arnold. “You will be pleased to send down a guard of a captain and fifty at that time and direct the quarters to have a night’s forage for about forty horses. You will keep this to yourself, as I want to make my journey a secret.”3

  Arnold was more than “pleased.” Immediately he dispatched Washington’s “secret” schedule to André and Clinton as more proof of his value as a spy. By September 15 he also assured Washington he would provide the necessary protections, as well as “deliver in person” other information.4 To Washington, as to other high-ranking officers, Arnold’s former bitterness seemed to have disappeared. The new commander of West Point seemed committed to help the Revolution triumph over the British.

  On Friday, September 15, the day after Peggy’s arrival at Joshua Hett Smith’s manor house, she, Arnold, and their party were rowed upriver to Colonel Beverly Robinson’s country house. Set above the Hudson in a high meadow, surrounded by pastures and orchards, the rambling, two-story clapboard house was one of the Loyalist’s properties before the patriots seized it. Arnold’s decision to live there struck a discordant note with his West Point predecessor, General Robert Howe, who, having lived there himself, pointed out its inconvenience, lying two miles south of the fort on the Hudson’s opposite shore. “At present I apprehend no danger in these quarters,” Arnold scoffed, insisting the house was “convenient for an invalid.”5 Unmentioned, of course, were Arnold’s underlying reason for taking this particular house: woods screened the property from the river.

  Shrewdly, too, Arnold had hired the impeccably patriotic Richard Varick, a twenty-seven-year-old veteran of Saratoga and former secretary to General Schuyler. Varick, who was privately studying law, had gratefully accepted Arnold’s part-time position and thrilled at the idea of meeting his beautiful wife. “The presence of Mrs. Arnold will certainly make our situation in the barren Highlands vastly more agreeable and will more than compensate for every deficiency of nature.”6

  Those “deficiencies” referred to the isolation of the Hudson Highlands, whose hills and deep valleys were sparsely pocketed with homes and farms. Even to Smith, whose country manor lay twenty miles south, Robinson’s property seemed “dreary . . . environed with mountains, and no way calculated for the residence of a lady of Mrs. Arnold’s taste, she being . . . [an] example and ornament of the politest circles.”7

  If the Hudson Highlands touched a raw nerve in Peggy from her earlier residences in the country, no one knew it. Primed by Arnold, she understood that Robinson’s house was an ideal place for Arnold’s treason. Secrecy was of utmost importance, especially in the presence of the observant Franks and Varick. If Arnold’s leap to the British was to succeed, Peggy must play the innocent as his cheerful and charming young wife.

  Peggy’s first test came on Sunday, September 17, while she and Arnold were hosting a dinner with West Point’s chief of artillery, the battle-scarred General John Lamb. Among the guests were Joshua Hett Smith and his family, who had stayed overnight on their way to Fishkill. That day tensions as powerful as the currents churning the Hudson one hundred feet below lay beneath the polite banter in Robinson’s beamed dining room. Smith, thrilled to be dining with the famous General Arnold, talked long and loud through the meal, as his host feigned interest in his comments. Varick and Franks though, puzzled by Arnold’s warmth to a suspected Loyalist, fumed, as the former recalled during a subsequent court inquiry.8 Money, they feared, lay behind the commander’s friendliness. Was it possible that Smith had lured their financially strapped employer into another illegal trading scheme?

  Adding to these tensions was the arrival of a messenger who handed Arnold a sealed letter whose seal he broke before his guests, scanned and nervously stuffed into his pocket. When General Lamb inquired about the sender, Arnold explained it was from Robinson, who requested a meeting to recover his confiscated home. The message had indeed arrived from Robinson, but it actually contained a seditious signal. Robinson was aboard the Vulture, a British man-o’-war, in Haverstraw Bay awaiting the arrival of Major André. Arnold’s meeting with the British major was, consequently, imminent.

  After lunch, Arnold, Franks, and Lamb barged south to meet Washington at Smith’s house near Haverstraw and accompany him to Peekskill. During their trip across the river, the commander in chief mentioned that he planned to come back up the Hudson on Saturday, September 23, to tour West Point and spend the night at the Robinson’s with Arnold and Peggy. Privately, Arnold welcomed that information, key news to forward to the British to obtain his reward of £20,000.

  Possibly Franks sensed something was amiss. Or perhaps the day’s tensions had worn on Arnold, who subsequently hurled so many “insults and ill treatment” upon Franks, that the aide decided to find another position.9

  Back at Robinson’s, Varick was equally disgruntled. Subsequent to Arnold’s departure, he had remained at the table with Peggy and the Smiths. Inevitably, the conversation turned to the Revolution. “America might have made an honorable peace with Great Britain when the commissioners came out in 1778,” Smith opined. To that, Varick had sharply disagreed and soon the two men were quarreling. Peggy, meanwhile, grew jittery, then she began chattering hysterically, as if to block out the dissension. It was not the first time Arnold’s wife seemed rattled. “She would give utterance to anything and everything on her mind,” Franks recalled. As a result, he and Varick already knew to be “scrupulous of what we told her or said within her hearing.”10

  Accordingly, the next morning, Monday, September 18, when Peggy defended Smith as “a very ‘warm and staunch Whig,’” Varick attributed her comment to her high-strung nerves. Subsequent events later proved Peggy’s behavior to be a case of the lady doth protest too much, per Shakespeare’s Queen Gertrude. That Monday Varick, nevertheles
s, had no reason to suspect Peggy of deception.

  Later that afternoon, while reading Arnold’s reply to Robinson’s letter, Varick again became suspicious. The tone of the letter was so warm, he complained to Arnold, that it seemed “the complexion of one from a friend, rather than one from an enemy.”11 To disarm Varick, Arnold amended the letter tone and directed Robinson to address his request to the civil authorities. Then, he surreptitiously slipped a second letter into the envelope that read, “I shall send a person to Dobbs Ferry or on board the Vulture on Wednesday night the 20th instant, and furnish him with a boat and flag of truce. The ship must remain where she is until the time mentioned . . . [when] the gentleman in New York [André] . . . will be permitted to come.”12

  In the double-speak of a spy, Robinson replied on the nineteenth, “I am sorry . . . that it is not proper to allow me to see you, my business being entirely of a private nature. . . . I was induced to make my application to you in hopes of meeting with a favorable reception from a Gent of your character. . . . I have nothing more favorable to say to you . . . other than to wait for a more favorable opportunity of doing something for my family.”13 Arnold understood: André would soon board the Vulture and meet him at a specific time and place on the shore at Haverstraw Bay.

  Joshua Hett Smith stopped at Robinson’s on his return from Fishkill the following morning to report that a “Mr. John Anderson”—André’s alias—would appear at his manor house near Haverstraw Bay late that night, Tuesday, September 19. The following morning, September 20, an apologetic message arrived from Smith. His tenant farmers, the brothers Samuel and Joseph Cahoon, who were supposed to row Anderson from the Vulture to Haverstraw the preceding night, had refused to cooperate. Enraged, Arnold stormed out of the house, leaving a bewildered Peggy behind. After bellowing orders, his startled boatman rowed him to Stony Point. There Arnold borrowed a horse, galloped to Haverstraw, burst into Smith’s house, and insisted upon seeing the Cahoons.