The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington

by Charles Rosenberg

  He was not disappointed. When they disembarked, he found a squad of British soldiers in dress uniforms waiting for him on the quay. Standing slightly in front of them was a well-dressed civilian wearing a long black coat with silver buttons, a red waistcoat beneath and black breeches, topped off with a white cravat at the neck. His black boots came to mid-calf.

  “Greetings, sir,” the man said. “We have been expecting you. But I have not yet had the pleasure of learning your name.”

  “I’m Ethan Abbott, Ambassador Plenipotentiary from the Continental Congress of the American States. I am here with full authority to negotiate the release of His Excellency, General Washington.”

  “Welcome to England, Mr. Abbott. I’m Jacob Hartleb, first assistant to His Excellency Lord North, First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer.” He bowed slightly.

  “Is he not also the Prime Minister?”

  Hartleb smiled. “He prefers not to use that title because he says it doesn’t exist in our laws, but he is oft called that, yes. Or sometimes First Minister. In any case, if you are asking if he has authority to negotiate on behalf of His Majesty, he does.”

  “I see. Now that we have introduced each other, has His Excellency, George Washington, already arrived in England?”

  “Yes. He is well and living in the Tower of London.”

  “He is imprisoned?”

  “Yes, in the Tower, but he is not closely held. You might say he is for the moment more of a guest.”

  “Whatever his status, I should like to see him immediately.”

  “I’m afraid that will take a while. First your credentials must be examined, the government must decide what status you are to be accorded and so forth. But I’ll see what can be done.”

  Abbott thought to protest that his status was clear—he was an ambassador from a sovereign and independent country—but then thought better of it. This was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he said only, “Thank you. I plan to ask after His Excellency’s well-being every day.”

  Hartleb looked over Abbott’s shoulder, as if searching for someone else. After an awkward few seconds, and looking slightly embarrassed, he asked, “Are you the only person of ambassadorial rank in your party?”

  Abbott smiled. “Yes. Were you expecting someone else?”

  “Candidly, we were expecting Dr. Franklin to arrive from France on a different ship, or even John Adams, although, given His Majesty’s disposition with regard to the latter gentleman, it was perhaps wise not to send him.”

  “I am the only one, and I have as yet had no contact with our representatives in France. I have full authority to negotiate with your government without him.” Without a further word, he handed Hartleb his commission. Hartleb gave the papers no more careful examination than had the first two officers who had boarded Lily Rose, and handed them back.

  “I’ve never seen such papers before, but they seem in order. I am being rude, however,” Hartleb said. “I do not mean to keep you standing here. We have two carriages nearby, one for us and one for whatever baggage you have, which the porters will see to unless something in it is confidential.”

  “No, there is nothing like that.”

  “Good. We should go, then. Unfortunately, we were not able to bring either carriage onto the dock.” He stared at Abbott’s peg, which Abbott had intentionally left visible beneath a pair of culottes, rather than try to strap on a fake boot of wood and leather, made for him by a clever shoemaker in Philadelphia. “Can you...?”

  “Fear not, Mr. Hartleb. I can walk a long way on this peg. I have had it quite a while. Sometimes I limp a bit, but please don’t worry about it.”

  “If I might be so bold as to ask a personal question of someone of whom I have only just made the acquaintance, how did you lose it?”

  Abbott knew that what he was really asking was whether it was a military wound or something else. He was only too happy to oblige him.

  “I lost it at the battle of Saratoga. A ball in the leg.”

  “Ah, that was a battle we lost, and badly. Indeed, the generals who lost it came back to testify before Parliament as to how it could possibly have happened. Back then, we thought all of you, and your soldiery in particular, were rural bumpkins.”

  “But we weren’t and we are not.”

  “So true. Well, at least one of your famous generals in that battle, General Arnold, has now come over to us.”

  “I know Mr. Arnold. I rode beside him. You are most welcome to keep him.”

  “You don’t refer to him as General Arnold?”

  “No, his name was struck from the records of our army. If he is a general at all, he is your general now, not ours.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that getting into an argument about who was or was not a traitor wasn’t a path it made sense to go down. At least not right then.

  Nor, apparently, did Hartleb since he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s head to the carriage, then—” he pointed down the dock, where Abbott could see a black carriage waiting, perhaps a hundred yards away “—and be on our way to London.”

  Abbott didn’t usually walk with a limp over short distances, despite his peg, but on that day he chose to limp a bit. Just to drive home who he was and what he stood for.

  29

  One of the many things that Charles Thompson had discussed with Abbott the day he left was where he might stay in London.

  “The government,” Thompson had said, “will no doubt offer to put you up in some kind of guest house for important visitors. You should politely decline the invitation because that house will be a den of spies.”

  “You have provided me with sufficient funds to rent lodging.”

  “Yes, certainly. But I have an alternative idea that might work out. As you know, Dr. Franklin lived in London for several years in the ’50s and again for many years in the ’60s and ’70s, before returning here. While there, he boarded with the widow Margaret Stevenson and her daughter, Polly, who is also now widowed, as well as, later, Polly’s children, at their home. He often spoke of them to me as if they were a second family.”

  “But Mrs. Stevenson knows neither you nor me,” Abbott said. “For although I spent some time with Dr. Franklin upon his return from England, he never mentioned the Stevensons to me.”

  “In times of war, many niceties fall away. I will give you a letter of introduction to Mrs. Stevenson, explaining my own position, your relationship to the Congress and Dr. Franklin, and I am sure they will make room for you.”

  “Even though they are on opposite sides from us?”

  “From what Dr. Franklin told me, I wouldn’t assume that to be the case, although he mentioned that they are discreet.”

  “If they will take me in—in exchange for rent, I assume—that would be ideal.”

  “You have great talents, Colonel, so I assume you will negotiate our independence on acceptable terms—amongst other things, we would like to continue to trade with them if we can also trade with others—and come home in triumph.”

  “I will try my best.”

  “One more thing. In London you may be in need of assistance at some point. There are men in London, whom we call Friends of America, who may be able to help.” He handed him a piece of parchment. “Here are the names and addresses of five of them, including one, Joshua Laden, who is perhaps more inclined to take certain risks than the others. Memorize the list and then tear it up and throw it into the sea.”

  “How will they know who I am?”

  Thompson smiled. “You just tell them you know me and ask them to confirm my middle name, which is Elihu. Very few people know that. Except them, and now you. I think that makes it a better code than the usual Greek and Roman names, which in my view are too easily guessed.”

  “Cannot someone easily find out your middle name?”

 
“No. It is indeed my middle name, but to learn it they would have to find the baptismal records of the church into which I was born. It has otherwise never been used.”

  * * *

  The trip from Portsmouth to London took the better part of two days. Along the way, he tried to draw Hartleb out on the political situation, the war and a number of other topics, but the man refused to be drawn. The conversation ended up turning instead to pleasantries.

  He did learn that, like himself, Hartleb was a former army officer, who, also like himself, had been mustered out as a colonel, was unmarried and lived for his work. He was devoted to his superior, Lord North, whom he described as a brilliant man, heavily burdened by the cares of office.

  As they rumbled along, Abbott again told Hartleb that he had to insist on seeing Washington immediately upon arriving in London.

  “Again, I’m afraid that will need to wait a couple of days, Mr. Abbott. Your status and all of that, as I said. And these things always take time no matter what, and it is not as if you had an appointment.”

  Abbott could no longer see a reason to hold back. “Mr. Hartleb, there is no true question about my status. I am the ambassador from an independent, sovereign nation. I am here to secure the release of a prisoner of war, in exchange for a possible resolution of certain differences between our two countries. It is as simple as that.”

  “I’m afraid it is not so simple, Colonel. We have well-known differences over the question of sovereignty, and you may yourself also be a subject of His Majesty who has treasonously attempted to overthrow his rule.”

  “If that is the case, Mr. Hartleb, you should just make me a guest in the Tower alongside General Washington. Then our two countries can continue to make war against one another and spend still more blood and treasure until the inevitable result, recognition of our independence.”

  Hartleb said nothing in response and they rode along in uncomfortable silence for some time. Finally, Abbott said, “I must enquire, is General Washington in good health?”

  “Yes, very. Indeed, His Majesty’s personal physician has examined him and declared him so. And he is also in good spirits so far as I understand. Although I have not met with him personally.”

  “Has Lord North?”

  “Not so far as I know. And I think I would know.”

  “What, exactly, are the conditions of his imprisonment?”

  “As I said before, he is not exactly a prisoner. He’s free, for example, to walk about most parts of the Tower grounds.”

  “Unguarded?”

  “No, he has guards with him at all times, his room has bars on the window and his door is locked at night from the outside. We also have other means of restraint available should he prove...difficult. Which he has so far not.”

  “If I must wait a day or two to see Washington, I would, as an alternative, to meet with Lord North upon our arrival.”

  “That, too, will have to wait. His Lordship is quite busy with affairs of state.”

  Abbott thought—ever so briefly—of demanding an audience with the King, but that seemed ridiculous in the moment, and he resigned himself to waiting. But not for long.

  Was making him wait a tactic? Or was something else going on?

  Upon their arrival in London, and just as Thompson had predicted, Hartleb took him to a large house in an area called The Strand. He referred to it as a government guest house used for important visitors, and told him that there was a cook, and a manservant, a Mr. Sellars, at his disposal. Abbott had firmly in mind Thompson’s advice to seek lodging not supplied by the government, but that would take a few days to arrange, and for the moment he could not see the harm in it. He would need to be cautious, though. He assumed there would be spies and eavesdroppers everywhere.

  “Is anyone else staying there at this time, Mr. Hartleb?”

  “Not right now. But there might be others in due course.”

  “Am I free to leave the house?”

  “Certainly. You are a guest of the government, and an important one. I assume you have come with money, but if not we will supply it. You should feel free to explore London, to eat where you please. You might even take in a play. As Christmas and New Year’s are just behind us, most theatres are dark, but a few are still open. I can recommend something if you like.”

  “Why, thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

  “Do take a hansom cab to go back and forth, particularly at night. London’s streets are, I regret to say, not the safest, particularly if you are well dressed.”

  After getting him settled in the house, Hartleb said, “I assume you have things coming from the ship in the carriage.”

  “Yes. Two trunks.”

  “Is that all? You may have a long stay here. I would not think that what you need to be an adequate ambassador could fit easily into only two trunks.”

  Hartleb had a smile on his face as he said it, but Abbott couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He decided to take what the man said at face value.

  “I would certainly have preferred to bring more of my wardrobe with me because I do like to be well dressed. I didn’t have sufficient time. It is regrettable because I understand that London is the capital not only of the British Empire, but of fashion, as well.”

  “The French might contest that, but in any case—” Hartleb looked him up and down “—you are already the best-dressed American I have seen in many a year.”

  “Why, thank you, but perhaps you have not met the correct Americans. On the other hand, have you ever had occasion to meet Dr. Franklin, Mr. Hartleb?”

  “Yes, several times. I assume you mean to suggest that he is not the very picture of sartorial splendour.”

  “Not hardly.” They laughed together.

  “I will be going now, sir. But if you should need to contact Lord North’s office, Mr. Sellars can arrange that. Otherwise, we will be back to you in a day or two regarding arrangements to see Washington.”

  “I should like to see him much sooner than that.”

  “I understand. Again, I will see what I can do.”

  Hartleb wished him a good evening and started to depart. At the last second, he stopped, turned around and said, “Mr. Abbott, there is something else I feel I should tell you, as one former army officer to another.”

  “What is that?”

  “I would prefer you not tell anyone you heard this from me, but Washington is going to need a lawyer, and a very good one.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The King is determined to see him brought to trial.”

  “For what?”

  “High treason.”

  “Then I demand to see him at once.”

  Hartleb looked startled. “The King?”

  “No. Although I would see him, too, if he would grant me an audience. I am referring to His Excellency, General Washington.”

  “I will do what I can. But sometimes these things take time.”

  “You continue to say that. What could possibly take more time than has already gone by? Your government has known for at least several days that I would be arriving. I am now here and ready to go to work.”

  “Well, we do have your letters of appointment now. But they are from a body—this Continental Congress—that we do not recognize. It is in our eyes an illegal assembly. The Foreign Office will, in conjunction with the Secretary of State for the American colonies, Lord Germain, work to decide whether we should negotiate with you or just put you in jail, too.”

  “Which you have also said before. And which was as ridiculous then as it is now. Two years ago your government sent the Carlisle Peace Commission to Philadelphia, where they met with numerous members of the Continental Congress—which you now label an illegal assembly—on multiple occasions.”

  “I’m afraid we view that as having been different. But in any c
ase, I will do what I can to hasten this along. In the meantime, I suggest you use the time to explore this great city.”

  In truth, Abbott was very anxious to explore London, now that he had finally arrived here, after having desired it for so many years. But he was not about to admit that.

  “Perhaps I will,” Abbott said. “But first I want to resolve these more important matters. I am not happy about this delay.”

  “I do understand. But, again, the treason matter is serious, and obtaining a barrister very promptly is important. If you do not know anyone, I can supply you a list of names of men who are accomplished in the area of criminal defence for high crimes.”

  “Thank you. I may need that list.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now I must go. A good evening to you.”

  30

  Abbott spent a sleepless night and arose in the morning more upset than before at having been refused immediate access to Washington. If there was no progress by the end of the day, he would go directly to the Tower himself the very next day and demand of the jailer to see the man whose freedom he’d been sent to secure.

  In the meantime, the question of how to identify the best lawyer was urgent but, at the same time, a puzzle. He could not, of course, represent Washington himself because he wasn’t admitted to the bar in England and wouldn’t be able to get admitted without undertaking extensive further training in England. Unfortunately, in the haste of his departure from Philadelphia, he had neglected to discuss the topic with either Thompson or Huntington, obvious as the need ought to have seemed.

  Benjamin Franklin, having lived in London for so many years, would likely know the best men, but he was in France. The round-trip time for messages was probably measured in weeks, assuming it could even be done efficiently and confidentially in a time of war between England and France.