Treacherous Beauty

by Stephen Case

  By the time the Arnolds gained Reed as an unwelcome neighbor at Sixth and Market Streets, the cosmopolitan, genteel atmosphere of Philadelphia seemed lost to history, replaced with barbarism, meanness, and desperation. “There are few unhappier cities on the globe than Philadelphia,” Silas Deane, a former delegate to the Continental Congress, wrote to his brother.311 To be sure, the public’s anger had some basis. Many Philadelphians were struggling to pay for food with Continental money that was losing value by the day. There was enough grain, but some of it was being diverted to the Atlantic coast to feed newly arrived French forces, who were paying in gold.

  At public meetings, angry radicals proposed to load the wives and children of escaped Loyalists onto ships and send them to New York City so that there would be fewer mouths to feed in Philadelphia. And fury was building against moderate businessmen such as Robert Morris who were accused of “forestalling”—holding on to food supplies—in an attempt to get hard money instead of Continentals in payment, or simply to push up prices. To keep food affordable, radicals formed committees that enforced price controls, which businessmen took as an affront to their property rights. Other radicals had less civilized ideas. Instead of committees, they preferred mobs.

  On October 4, 1779, the ascendancy of street justice culminated in an incident known as the Fort Wilson Riot.312 A group of armed militiamen, fueled by drink, seized a few suspected Tories on a Philadelphia street and paraded them through town, beating “The Rogue’s March” on their drums. Outside City Tavern, the mob spotted Robert Morris and his political allies. The Morris group fled to the nearby home of one of its members, James Wilson, a lawyer who had defended men accused of antirevolutionary treason. Like Morris, Wilson was a signer of the Declaration of Independence.

  Wilson’s three-story brick mansion at Third and Walnut Streets, about a block from the house where Peggy Shippen was raised, was quickly dubbed Fort Wilson. Morris, Wilson, and about thirty others shuttered the windows, barricaded the doors, and prepared to defend themselves. An estimated two hundred radicals surrounded the place, while their cohorts fetched iron bars, sledgehammers, and even a cannon.

  A one-armed veteran inside Fort Wilson threw open the shutters of a third-floor window and shouted something at the mob. Whether he fired first or a militiaman did so is unknown, but the veteran was shot dead and was the first casualty of the battle. A wild firefight erupted, and invaders broke into the home, bayoneting a defender before retreating under gunfire.

  Joseph Reed, who had been sick in bed when he heard about the disturbances, got dressed and hurried on his horse to the scene. With help from troopers, Reed ordered the arrest of all combatants on both sides. Morris, Wilson, and others were able to make bail, while the radicals spent longer in jail before they were freed.

  The one-armed veteran was the only fatality among defenders, but the bayonet victim and other comrades were injured. The mob lost four radicals killed and about a dozen wounded. A bystander described as a “black boy” also died.

  Later, Reed downplayed the disturbing clash. “Our domestic tranquility has been interrupted by some unhappy commotions, to which free states in all ages have been subject,” he told the state’s assembly. “We trust they are rather to be considered as the casual overflowings of liberty than proceeding from avowed licentiousness, or contempt of public authority.”313

  Arnold’s role in this incident remains a mystery—either he was everywhere, or he was nowhere. By one account, he arrived in his carriage and tried to stop the paraders before they reached the Wilson house, but was forced to retreat when the militiamen threw paving stones at him. Another account placed Arnold inside the house taunting a Reed supporter from a window with the words “Your president has raised a mob, and now he cannot quell it.” According to yet another account, Arnold was not only inside the house but in full command of its defense. Supporting this theory is the fact that the other known defenders lacked combat experience but held out against a mob that outnumbered them about seven to one. Yet some insist that Arnold was not involved in the clash at all.

  In any case, Arnold was clearly a target of the radical mobs of that time. In an incident soon after the Fort Wilson Riot, two men chased him in the street, forcing him to draw his pistols and threaten to kill them both if they did not withdraw. A mob gathered outside Penn Mansion, the Arnolds’ home. Peggy, who was about four months pregnant by now, was terrified, as was the rest of the Arnold family. The general demanded that Congress supply a guard of twenty men and an officer. Congress advised him to make his request to the “proper authorities”—Reed’s government.

  More than two months later, Arnold was finally able to confront Reed in a quiet chamber far from the mob. After a six-month delay, his court-martial resumed on December 23, 1779, at the Norris Tavern in Morristown, New Jersey. Meanwhile Peggy stayed in Philadelphia, where her sister Betsy gave birth on Christmas Day to their parents’ first grandchild. Betsy and Neddy christened their newborn son Edward Shippen Burd.314

  At Morristown, Arnold represented himself, thrilled at the chance to state his case. But the proceedings were agonizing for his wife, who was dissatisfied with the scant details in one of his reports to her in Philadelphia.315 “I cannot but wish you had been more particular in letting me know how your trial goes,” Peggy wrote. “You say so little about it that I am apprehensive things do not go as well as you expected and you are afraid of alarming me by letting me know it.”316

  Contrary to Peggy’s fears, Arnold generally performed quite ably. He cast serious doubt on whether the owner of the Charming Nancy was a Loyalist when Arnold had written his controversial pass giving the ship free rein in American-held ports. Arnold did not mention, of course, that he had later obtained a financial interest in the ship’s cargo. He made quick work of the militiaman who complained about being ordered to summon a barber. In that charge, Arnold found the military jury to be a friendly audience, since he was simply arguing for obedience to orders. Arnold admitted that he had arranged for public wagons to carry his private merchandise, but insisted that he always intended to pay for their use and that he did not believe they were needed for public purposes at the time. Arnold had trouble tracking down a potential witness named Mitchell, the quartermaster who had arranged for the wagons. (Back in Philadelphia, Peggy sent a servant to look for him, and she wrote Arnold: “I never wanted to see you half so much. You mention Sunday for your return [but] I will not flatter myself I shall see you even then, if you wait for Colonel Mitchell.”)317

  Eventually the quartermaster emerged, testifying that Arnold had offered to pay but also saying the wagons had been needed elsewhere. In addition, he said he didn’t think he could reject Arnold’s request “without incurring his displeasure as a commanding officer.”

  To Arnold’s advantage, and Reed’s vexation, Pennsylvania authorities had little proof to support their case, even though it was generally on target and in some cases understated the breadth of Arnold’s transgressions. But on one of the most serious charges—that Arnold had made secret purchases in violation of his own order that shops be closed—Reed had acquired a solid piece of evidence. Colonel John Fitzgerald, who had lodged with Arnold’s aide David Franks when they first reentered Philadelphia after the British left, said he had seen a paper on a windowsill that was in Arnold’s handwriting and directed Franks to buy goods.

  Franks tried to explain away that revelation, testifying that he was thinking about quitting the army and his friend Arnold was only seeking to set him up in business. Franks insisted that Arnold had soon seen the impropriety of such purchases and had avoided them. Like all liars, Arnold knew that his credibility depended on affecting an air of moral certitude. Arnold said that if he had indeed made illegal purchases as his foes had alleged, “I stand confessed . . . the vilest of men; I stand stigmatized with indelible disgrace. . . . The blood I have spent in defense of my country will be insufficient to obliterate the
stain.”

  Arnold often talked too much during the court-martial, as if he had been saving up the words for these many months. He brought up accusations that were not even at issue in this proceeding, such as the pass for Hannah Levy and his alleged insult of Pennsylvania authorities. Raising the issue of Reed’s petty backbiting of Washington in 1776, Arnold all but called Reed a traitor.

  He predicted that his fellow officers would allow him to “stand honorably acquitted of all the charges brought against me and again share with them the glories and danger of this just war.”

  The court acquitted him of the barber charge and of illegal purchases while stores were shut. But he was found guilty of giving an improper pass to the Charming Nancy. And while the court ruled that Arnold’s use of the wagons was not an attempt to cheat the government, “the request was imprudent and improper” and “ought not to have been made.” The recommended punishment was not severe—a reprimand by the commander in chief. And there was no certainty that Washington would heed the recommendation, even after it was affirmed by Congress.

  Arnold was pleased enough with his spirited defense that he arranged for the 179-page court record to be printed in English and French and distributed in America and Europe. The general looked to his old love, the sea, in seeking his next military command. He wrote to Washington suggesting he be put in command of a ship with up to four hundred marines. But Washington referred the idea to the admiralty board, and nothing came of it.

  The Arnolds’ hope for a brighter future was bolstered on March 19, 1780, when their first child, Edward Shippen Arnold, was born. The news undoubtedly pleased Edward’s uncle Edward Shippen, his grandfather Edward Shippen, and his great-grandfather Edward Shippen. Peggy’s happy news pleased Washington as well. He sent the Arnolds hearty congratulations. But if they harbored hopes that Washington had forgotten about the reprimand, they were soon disabused of this notion.318

  Washington, while gentle in demeanor and remarkably tolerant of some misbehaving colleagues such as Reed, believed in military discipline and was determined to play by the rules. He aimed to be an honest broker in an atmosphere full of backstabbing and favor trading, but that did not make him lenient. He once complained that Congress had imposed a limit on the number of lashes that could be given to errant soldiers.319 About a week after sending the Arnolds his letter of congratulations, Washington issued his reprimand. He didn’t force Arnold to listen to it in person, but published it in his general orders of April 6:

  The commander-in-chief would have been much happier in an occasion of bestowing commendations on an officer who had rendered such distinguished services to his country as Major General Arnold; but in the present case, a sense of duty and a regard for candor oblige him to declare that he considers his conduct in the instance of the permit [for the Charming Nancy] as peculiarly reprehensible, both in a civil and military view, and in the affair of the wagons as imprudent and improper.320

  Washington was disappointed in Arnold’s self-serving actions, but there was no reason to think he was personally angry with Arnold or had lost faith in his ability to lead troops. On the contrary, Washington continued to hope that Arnold would be physically fit enough to serve under him as a battlefield commander.

  Meanwhile, Arnold was still getting no satisfaction over his financial claims from the Quebec expedition more than four years earlier. After a congressional committee referred the matter to the Treasury Board, the board referred it to the Chambers of Accounts, then took it away from the Chamber of Accounts and settled on a sum on its own. But still there was no closure, and the board recommended that its numbers be reexamined by a separate group of commissioners in Albany, New York, which might take many months.

  A frustrated Arnold accused former board chairman Elbridge Gerry of plotting against him. Gerry, a member of Congress from Massachusetts and signer of the Declaration of Independence with a solid record, challenged Arnold to provide evidence, which he didn’t have. Arnold again found himself matching reputations with an opponent and losing—although Gerry’s later efforts to draw districts for political advantage would make him the namesake of a negative political term, “gerrymandering.”321

  The Arnold family moved out of Penn Mansion and into a more modest house acquired by Peggy’s father in one of his real estate speculations. Moving into the mansion, and becoming Reed’s new neighbor, was Jean Holker, the French shipping agent who had lent twelve thousand pounds to Arnold and also served as France’s consul general. Peggy’s fine home along the Schuylkill, Mount Pleasant, was still tantalizingly unavailable, with the rent paid by the Spanish diplomat.322

  Arnold desperately needed money. And he needed respect as well. He was getting neither from Philadelphia, but he knew he might at least get the money from his friends in New York City. Sometime in May, about six months after their negotiations had broken down, Arnold sent his favorite Philadelphia china dealer, Joseph Stansbury, back to British headquarters at One Broadway to report that “Mr. Moore” was ready to talk some more.

  But “Lothario” was not. John André and General Clinton were out of town, achieving the greatest victory of their time together, the capitulation of Charleston. Laying a systematic siege to the important Southern city, the British reduced the rebels to using broken bottles and old axes as ammunition for their cannon. The British bombardment was incessant, with one cannonball bouncing off St. Michael’s Church and hitting a beloved statue of British politician William Pitt the Elder, taking off his arm. Ultimately, a rebel army of about five thousand men surrendered.323

  This was a real victory, not an inflated conquest like André’s capture of the blockhouse at Fort Lafayette on the Hudson. As a key supervisor of the triumph, André found his career on a continued upward trajectory. This was crucial because another war development had put personal pressure on André. His family’s investments in sugar plantations on the Caribbean island of Grenada appeared lost when the French fleet of the Count d’Estaing captured the island, and so they were now increasingly reliant on his military salary.324

  While André and Clinton were in Charleston, British operations in New York were run by a Hessian, Lieutenant General Wilhelm von Knyphausen.325 When Stansbury came to visit, Knyphausen and Captain George Beckwith, who knew Peggy from the British occupation of Philadelphia, found themselves dealing with an opportunity that they quickly realized was exceptional.326 After the meeting, the two substitute spymasters wrote down Arnold’s terms. He wanted “a small sum of ready money” right away and “indemnifications” of ten thousand pounds, to protect his family’s future. He was willing to “take a decisive part in case of an emergency or that a capital stroke can be struck.” He also expected the British to put him in command of a “new-raised battalion,” presumably of Loyalists.327 Arnold apparently still did not realize that the British had only tepid interest in a badly wounded and fractious general joining their forces; they much preferred the single, sudden act of treachery that Arnold might provide.

  The American general said he was ready for the meeting that André had suggested the previous year. “He particularly desires to have a conference with an officer of confidence,” the British officers wrote. Knyphausen explained to Arnold that “the affair in agitation is of so important a nature” that he could not make any commitment without consulting Clinton.328 But he promised that a meeting with an officer could be arranged and that a little money would be provided in the meantime. He also sent Arnold one of two identical rings. Arnold might later notice the twin ring on the finger of a British operative, Knyphausen explained. George Beckwith held onto the other ring and took the code name J.B. Ring.329

  Arnold quickly resumed supplying information to the British, but was caught up in one of Washington’s sneakiest intelligence tricks of the war. Washington spread word among his staff that he planned to invade Canada with eight thousand men—something he had no intention of doing. He asked Arnold to arrange for t
he printing of at least five hundred copies of a proclamation to the people of Canada. There’s no indication that Washington suspected Arnold; it was simply part of his plan to let the “secret” out. Arnold indeed sent the proclamation to the British, along with intelligence from a French diplomat putting the Canadian deployment at eight thousand.

  By this time Arnold and Peggy also were looking north, but not quite so far. They wanted Washington to give Arnold command of the Hudson River forts at West Point, New York, which would be the perfect prize to offer the British. Located about sixty miles north of New York City, West Point serves today as home of the US Military Academy. In the eighteenth century it was a vital stronghold for the Continental Army and prevented British ships from sailing upriver to seize control of the line of the Hudson.

  Both sides knew that a takeover of West Point would allow the British to cut the new nation in two by blocking the flow of soldiers, supplies, and communications from New England to Pennsylvania and the southern states—a lifeline whose value was proven the next year when French troops used the route to move south for the decisive Battle of Yorktown. If West Point’s garrison fell with the forts, the British would take at least a thousand prisoners, and maybe many more if Arnold worked it right. And such an embarrassing reversal might cause the French to lose faith in the alliance—and to withhold the kind of help that would later make victory possible at Yorktown.330