The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington

by Charles Rosenberg

  “No. I am in no especial rush to see him. He will without doubt summon me at some point. I will be quite content to wait.” He paused and said under his breath, “Or maybe I can find in it an excuse to resign.”

  “Is there anything else, my Lord?”

  “Yes. Send a messenger to Ambassador Abbott and ask him to come here tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. If he reads the morning papers, as I am sure he does, he will know before he arrives why I have summoned him.”

  “I will see that done.”

  “Also, Mr. Hartleb, when the newspapers hound us for comment in the next hours, as they most certainly will—this will not long be a secret—tell the reporter for the Morning Post that I will see him in person if he will call on me late this afternoon, before the cabinet meeting.”

  “What about the other papers?”

  “They can wait.”

  48

  With the negotiations in abeyance, and an April trial soon upon them, with the burden of preparation falling on Hobhouse, Abbott had permitted himself to sleep late on some days and had begun to explore London a bit more. He felt some guilt about it, but assumed the negotiations would resume at some point, whether during the trial or at its conclusion. He had seen Washington several times in recent days, and they had been in agreement that, no matter Hobhouse’s skills, the verdict would almost certainly be guilty, but that a guilty verdict would put greater pressure on the North government to make more concessions. They both were of the belief that the last thing the government wanted was to go forward with an execution.

  He went down to breakfast, where he found Mrs. Stevenson sitting at the table, reading the Daily Advertiser. A second paper, the Morning Post, sat next to her on the table. The newspapers had no doubt been purchased by Mrs. Stevenson’s porter, who had been kind enough to venture out twice a day, morning and evening, and buy the four papers Abbott had taken to perusing daily.

  She looked up as Abbott entered the room. “There is grim news this day,” she said. She folded the paper and handed it to him.

  Abbott quickly spotted the article to which she was no doubt making reference, read it and blanched. “Oh, my God, what a horrible thing.”

  “You’re not happy that all those English sailors were killed and three of His Majesty’s ships destroyed?” she said. “It is a war after all.”

  “I’m not sure. It says many civilian workers were killed on the docks, although I do wonder what they were doing there so late at night. For a second thing, if it is believed that this was the work of Patriots, the outrage here may keep our negotiations from ever recommencing, which is the very point the article makes. But another part of me is glad of it.”

  “Is resumption of the sessions what you have been hoping for?”

  “Planning on, really. Did you read far enough into the article to see what they are calling the event?”

  “Yes. The New York Gunpowder Party.” She raised her eyebrows. “You have to wonder who exactly made that name up. The men who did this awful thing or the newspaper.”

  “Or perhaps it was made up by Lord North’s government,” Abbott said. “Yet the Daily Advertiser is anti-North. If they wanted to enrage the King and cause North’s government to fall, stoking rage about this, and encouraging people to compare it to the Tea Party, might be a way to accomplish it.”

  “Yes, although the Daily Advertiser also supposedly wants the war to end,” Mrs. Stevenson said.

  “Let’s see what the Morning Post says. It is so pro-government that it might as well be North himself speaking.” He picked up the Post, read it and passed it to Mrs. Stevenson.

  “As you’ll see, they make no mention of the civilian casualties, don’t call it any kind of party and say nothing at all about its possible effect on further negotiations. They don’t even use the word accident, but are calling it a ‘misfortune of war.’”

  Mrs. Stevenson read it. “You’re right. It’s almost as if they are trying to shrug their governmental shoulders and move on.”

  “Well, at least it explains why I received a message from Lord North last night asking me to come to call on him at 10 Downing this morning at eleven.”

  “A question before you go, Ambassador. Do you think this could possibly have been the work of your Congress, in retaliation for the kidnapping and for putting the General on trial?”

  “I think not. I have been sending regular reports to the appropriate committees since I arrived here and they have been responding. The reports to me have said nothing at all about the reaction in America to Washington’s kidnapping. And they have been nothing but encouraging about the negotiations, so long as we obtain independence, of course.”

  “How do those reports get delivered in time of war?”

  Abbott smiled and said only, “By various means, some open, some not so open.”

  She smiled back. “Of course. If it is not a secret, was the letter you received yesterday correspondence from them?”

  “Yes.”

  “And yesterday for you was actually four or five weeks ago for them.”

  “That is true. And when they receive correspondence from me, it is even longer out of date—six or seven weeks. Hence, they have not even learned yet that Lord North has put the negotiations in abeyance. And if the negotiations resume and we fail, Washington might well be executed before Congress is able to learn about it.”

  “That must be a lonely feeling for you.”

  “At times it is. Although I do have my delegation to assist me.”

  “Do you think the British read your dispatches?”

  “I assume so. I mark them as confidential diplomatic correspondence and word them carefully, but I cannot imagine they do not read them, and the responses, too.” Abbott rose from the table. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Stevenson, I must go now and dress for my meeting with Lord North.”

  “But you have not eaten any breakfast.”

  “I will get something later. If truth be told, I am not very hungry.”

  “I can understand that. Please feel free to use my carriage for your meeting.”

  “Thank you. I am most obliged and will do that.”

  Abbott went up to his room, changed into something less ostentatious and started to read a book. He had, months ago, borrowed The Sylph from the government guest house, in what seemed now almost a long-ago life, but had still not finished it. He found himself unable to concentrate on the book. He couldn’t go to see North undecided about his own position. As he had said to Mrs. Stevenson, there was a part of him that felt good about what had happened in New York. Given the devastation that the British had brought to America over the past six years—the deaths, the destruction of property, the sundering of families—perhaps all those who died, even the civilians, who were likely there working on British ships, deserved it. The bomb ship, after all, had been designed to shell not other ships, but towns. Another part of him, having seen war close-up, deplored the mindless death that went with it. And still a third part reminded him that he was a diplomat with a task to accomplish.

  Finally, he went downstairs and took the carriage to 10 Downing, still undecided.

  49

  When Abbott arrived at the First Minister’s, he was greeted, as usual, by Mr. Hartleb and led to the library. Lord North was standing beside one of the two large chairs. He gestured at the other chair and said, “Please sit down, Ambassador,” although he did not take a seat. “And please forgive me for not offering you anything to eat or drink. I do not think I will need to impose upon your time for very long.”

  Abbott sat down and said, “I take no offence, my Lord. How may I be of help? Are you perhaps prepared to resume the negotiations?”

  “No, not yet. I assume you have read the morning papers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And so you know about the terrible tragedy in New York.”

 
; “Yes, and may I say I regret so much loss of life.” That was a good way to put it, Abbott thought, because it let open the possibility that he didn’t regret all the loss of life.

  North smiled. “But not the damage to the ships?”

  “That might be much harder to regret, my Lord.”

  North moved to the window, clearly, Abbott realized, his favourite place in the room, and looked out. Without turning, he asked, “Did you have any foreknowledge of this event, Ambassador?”

  “None at all.”

  “Was there any indication in any way from your Congress or others in America that this type of event was being planned or even contemplated?”

  “Not in any way. And besides, I assume you have read my correspondence with the Congress.”

  North did not respond one way or the other to Abbott’s statement. Instead, still facing away, he said, “I know that you have contacts here in London who are perhaps in touch with the rebels in America in different ways than you might be.”

  It was Abbott’s turn not to respond directly to the question. Instead, he said, “I have acquired no knowledge of this act from anyone, anywhere, at any time. And might I add that Congress may be outraged at the kidnapping of General Washington, but they are aware we are in the midst of delicate negotiations, which I remind you they have authorized me to participate in. It would be foolish to approve, or even encourage, an action such as the one in New York, and they are not fools.”

  North turned around. “No, they are not.” He returned and took the chair opposite Abbott’s. It seemed to Abbott that he looked careworn.

  “Mr. Ambassador, we had a difficult cabinet meeting last night. Some of my senior ministers want to retaliate as best we can. By sending more troops, or more ships, or opening a new front in the war, in addition to the one being carried out in the South.”

  As if, Abbott thought, you could afford to do any of that. One of the things he had learned since coming to England was that the British Treasury was near to bankrupt from the costs of the American war and the costs of the wars with the French and Spanish that had been loaded on top of that. But he kept that thought to himself and said only, “I would hope we could instead turn our efforts to resolving the conflict as it is.”

  “That is the approach that prevailed,” North said. “But barely, and for the moment.”

  “What exactly is that approach, my Lord?”

  “That we will treat this terrible incident as an accident, and that we will say there is no evidence whatever that your Congress or any American was involved in any way. We will launch an investigation of how powder stores are managed on His Majesty’s warships. This was clear mismanagement.”

  “I see,” Abbott said, wondering why North was telling him this in such detail.

  His question was soon answered. “I need your assistance in preserving that approach,” North said.

  “Before I ask how I might be of help in that, if I want to, I must ask you a question, my Lord.”

  “What is it?”

  “Why are you taking the position you are with regard to the incident? It might be very popular to take a punitive approach.”

  “I would put it this way. When the tea incident occurred in Boston—oh, let me just call it the Tea Party, we have found no better term for it—we took a distinctly punitive approach. The Parliament passed the Coercive Acts, closing the port of Boston and so forth.”

  “We called them the Intolerable Acts.”

  “I know. But call the Acts what you will, many of us are now persuaded that it was a mistake. And as the old saying goes, which was at least popularized, if not invented, by Dr. Franklin, a spoonful of honey will catch more flies than a gallon of vinegar.”

  “Well, I suppose I ought to be offended at our being referred to as flies to be caught,” Abbott said and smiled. “But I take the sense of what you’re saying. How may I be of help, assuming I decide to help?”

  “You are likely to be approached for comment by our various newspapers, Ambassador. I know you have so far scrupulously refused to talk with them and forbidden your delegation from doing so.”

  “That is true.”

  “I might suggest you relax that rule and speak to the papers on this one matter. Although you only, not your delegation.”

  Abbott paused. “And tell them what?” He felt a possible trap opening up.

  “Tell them what you truly think about the incident in New York.”

  Abbott laughed. “I sense you are going to suggest to me what I truly think.”

  North laughed, too. “Only that your government—it is a concession on my part even to call it a government—regrets the loss of life and had no role in the incident. And you might avoid using the phrase ‘gunpowder party’ in describing it.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No. If you feel comfortable saying it, please say although all the evidence suggests it was a terrible accident, in the unlikely event any American was involved in any way, they will be prosecuted.”

  “I don’t have that authority.”

  “Mr. Ambassador, one of the things I have learned after many years here is that authority flows to those who assert it.”

  “What will the Congress say when they hear what I have said?”

  North shrugged. “They will not learn of it for at least six weeks, maybe more, and by that time, I hope our negotiations will have proved successful.”

  “And if not?”

  “You may end up being disavowed by those who claim the right to direct you. But candidly, being disavowed may be a shock to your system the first time, but after a while you come to regard it as just a cost of governing effectively.”

  “I am not a person who governs.”

  North raised his eyebrows. “Having watched you these many weeks, I think you have both a taste for it and a talent for it. But we shall see.”

  Abbott did not respond.

  After a small silence, North said, “Well, you will do what you will do. I thank you for coming on such short notice. I think by now you can find your own way out.” He gestured at the door.

  “I will carefully consider what you have asked,” Abbott said.

  He turned and was about to leave when he had a thought and turned again towards North, who was still sitting in his chair. Hartleb was in the process of putting some sort of drink in front of him, even though it was not yet noon.

  “My Lord, if I may, you would catch a great many more flies if you were to release His Excellency, at least to a parole, while we resolve our final differences.”

  “Ambassador, for political reasons, we must at least begin the trial first. Then, I hope, we will be able to get to where you and I both want to go and use honey liberally.”

  On the way back to Mrs. Stevenson’s, Abbott decided that—at least for now—he would comply with the first part of Lord North’s request about the American government having played no role in the event. But he would certainly not assert that guilty people, if found, would be prosecuted. When the negotiations resumed, as he assumed they would, his cooperation was something he could remind the First Minister about when he was in need of a concession. And in the end, what he said to the London press would likely make little difference to the actions of the Fathers of Liberty—if there really was such a group.

  50

  Hobhouse and Washington were once again walking upon the parade of the Tower, the better to avoid being overheard. It had become almost a daily occurrence as they prepared for the trial. Fortunately, the throwing of fruit had become infrequent, although there was still the occasional egg. Hobhouse was not sure whether fruit had simply become harder to obtain or eggs more dear, or whether the authorities had simply tired of finding people willing to stand in the storehouse windows and throw and shout.

  “The trial, Excellency, is tomorrow,” Hobhouse said. “
We have discussed the strategy now many times, but there are two things I must confirm with you.”

  “What might they be, Mr. Hobhouse?”

  “First, it is still the case—and this was confirmed to me yesterday by Lord North himself, who sought me out to tell me—that if you publicly support the various terms—borders and troops and trade and so forth—upon which the government and the American delegation, led by Ambassador Abbott, have so far tentatively agreed, the indictment will be dismissed, subject to being refiled if things do not work out. You will also, at the very least, be permitted your liberty here in London or, more likely, paroled to a neutral country. All this while awaiting Congress’s formal approval of the agreement.”

  “It is still, I presume, an agreement which fails to confirm the independence of the United States.”

  “It does not acknowledge the independence of the United States.”

  “What is your advice, Mr. Hobhouse? You have worked enormously hard on this matter, and it would be untoward of me not to ask.”

  “I would advise you to accept it. It is an excellent outcome considering the potential evidence against you and the penalty. But, of course, I cannot weigh in the balance the independence of the United States. It is a political matter on which I, as a lawyer, can have no useful view in advising you.”

  “Thank you, sir. But I can never support what has so far been agreed to, no matter what other terms the agreement might contain and no matter how beneficial they might be to us. Independence is our right, and it ought not to be gainsaid because I myself may face death.”

  “Very well, Excellency. I apologize for needing to ask you again, but it was my duty to do so.”

  “I understand that. What was the second thing you feel you must tell me again?”

  “It is more what I must ask you. We have discussed before that you may have the right to speak in your own defence. But I remind you again that it would be unsworn testimony because here in England, as I understand the law also to be in America, prisoners cannot testify in their own defence under oath. They are not sworn.”