The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington

by Charles Rosenberg

  Forecastle, without even breaking stride, said, “If I’m recalling the same incident you are making reference to, she simply greeted me as she passed by and wished me a pleasant evening. We have seen each other many times inside the Tower and established a cordial relationship.”

  Abbott was struck by the fact that Forecastle seemed to know exactly what meeting with Mrs. Crankshaw he was referring to, which was hardly proof of it having been an innocent encounter. He considered whether to tell Forecastle what he knew, and decided he should. “Are you aware she is a spy for the British inside the Tower?”

  This time, Forecastle stopped walking, faced Abbott and said, “No, I wasn’t aware of that.”

  Abbott judged from the flush on Forecastle’s cheeks that the man was lying. He pressed on. “Lord North informed me that he believes you are not a physician at all, but instead a member of His Excellency’s Commander-in-Chief Guard.”

  Apparently deciding that there was no point in further hiding the truth, he said, “I am trained as a physician, but I have spent most of my adult life as a soldier. I am a lieutenant in the Army of the Continental States and a member of His Excellency’s Life Guard.”

  “Are you involved in a plot to rescue His Excellency?”

  “Yes. But I do not believe that sharing the details with you would be prudent, lest you are tortured for the information.”

  “I do not need to know the details right now. Is this with or without General Washington’s knowledge?”

  “With.”

  “Are you going to try to spirit him out of the country or hide him?”

  “Perhaps both.”

  “Has His Excellency changed his mind, then?”

  “He believes that his escape will be a very large embarrassment to Lord North’s government and will cause it to fall. And to be replaced with one more amenable to agreeing to our independence.”

  “I thought he wanted to make a speech from the gallows.”

  “Our plans are not inconsistent with that.”

  “If you are planning to rescue him from there, many people are likely to die.”

  “If British soldiers die, so be it.”

  “What about the others who are there?”

  “If they have come to see His Excellency be hanged and butchered, let them die, too.”

  “I will need to confirm all of this with His Excellency.”

  “I hope you will do so. I will warn you, though—do not get in our way.”

  “Mr. Forecastle, perhaps you have not noticed, but I was a soldier in our army once, too. It’s not wise to threaten me.”

  The two of them parted without a word of goodbye.

  62

  Abbott went the very next morning to the Tower. He asked the guard if Washington was there and was told that he was. Abbott was then searched much more thoroughly than he had ever been before, and he was also accompanied to Washington’s cell by a guard rather than being permitted to find his own way.

  Washington was indeed in his cell and greeted him as if nothing had changed.

  “Excellency, there are two things we must discuss urgently,” Abbott said. “For both, we might walk upon the parade.”

  “All right. Let us go. It is perhaps too early in the morning for the fruit throwers to be in place. Or perhaps they don’t toss fruit at the condemned.”

  As they walked, Abbott said, “We have reopened the negotiations with Lord North, based on a proposal he made. I call it the ‘set the issue to the side’ approach.”

  “Which issue?”

  “Independence.” He explained it to Washington and said, “We have met for two days now and made good progress. We are scheduled to meet again this afternoon.”

  Washington stopped, folded his arms and faced Abbott. “It is a trick and a trap. If we should settle with them without formal independence, they will sooner rather than later enter into a peace treaty with France. Whereupon they will invade us again, but we will have no French arms, men or ships to help us. Which, let us agree, have been our saviour in this war.”

  “If that were to happen, we would have our own professional army to resist their invasion, unlike in 1775.”

  Washington laughed. “As soon as peace is declared, the Congress will disband the army. They fear a standing army, and even if they did not, they do not want to pay for it. It has been hard enough, when our liberty is at stake, to get even our current army funded.”

  “Are you instructing me to abandon the negotiation?”

  “No, Colonel. You should continue. I quite understand that it will delay my execution, and a few more days on earth in this glorious English spring will please me, certainly.”

  “We should start to walk again, Excellency, and just not stand here, where we will attract attention.”

  “All right.”

  As they walked further along, Abbott said, in as low a voice as he could muster and still be heard by Washington, “I learned certain things, confronted Forecastle, and found out, not only who he really is, but that he is planning your escape. He refused to tell me the details.”

  “I do not know them either. We thought it best that way. It will come as a surprise on the day of the execution.”

  “You know nothing else at all of the plans, other than that they will attempt it on the day of the execution?”

  “Only one other thing—that they plan to spirit me out of the country.”

  “Excellency, you have told me many times you preferred death, even the horrible one inflicted on supposed traitors, to any kind of compromise, so that you might make a speech on the scaffold. One you hoped would rally the people of Britain to our side, bring down the government and lead quickly to independence.”

  “I judge that my escape, right under their noses, will be such an embarrassment to them that it will have an even larger effect. If things go well, I can return to America and lead our army to victory. Then we will have true independence.”

  “I have a perhaps better idea, Excellency. One that will enrage them even more. I will explain it to you and you can tell me to abandon it or to go forward.” He explained it in detail.

  When Abbott had finished, Washington, looking thoughtful, tilted his head back and forth as if weighing the options. “It would, then, Colonel, take place the night before the execution?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thus, if it fails, it will not interfere with Lieutenant Forecastle’s plan.”

  “It would seem unlikely to interfere. But for it to work, you must stay in the Tower until the day of execution. If you are moved earlier, Forecastle’s plan—whatever it is—may still work, but mine will not.”

  “I have no way to assure they will keep me here.”

  “You do, Excellency. You must at all times indicate, by word and deed, that you are still possibly open to Lord North’s suggestion. But only if a few more changes are made.”

  “Why will he care?”

  “I believe he is desperate, Excellency, not to execute you. But he seems to feel boxed into a corner politically. He cannot wait forever.”

  “Who has boxed him in?”

  “The ‘never independence’ members of Parliament.” He paused. “And the King.”

  “I know what was said in the Declaration about the King, but I have always thought that the King was led around by the nose by Parliament.”

  “I think that is true and not true at the same time. But whatever the formal relationship, the situation seems to have left the King unhinged from logical thinking on the subject. At least if Lord North is to be believed.”

  “You have gotten to know North?”

  “When you spend a long time with someone locked in a room, it breeds familiarity.”

  “Some would say it can breed contempt.”

  “I don’t have contempt for him. I see him as a ma
n with a problem, partly of his own making, who would like mightily to resolve it but has been unable to find a way. Or perhaps lacks the political skill to find a way.”

  “The fact that his problem is my pending death makes me less understanding of him, Colonel.”

  “Of course, Excellency. I did not mean to turn it into a philosophical conversation.”

  “Where are you going next?”

  “To meet with a friend of America, whose help I will need.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Abbott added, “I will see you again very soon,” and left.

  The afternoon before, right after his meeting with Forecastle had ended on such a sour note, he had returned home. Once there, he had prevailed on Polly to travel to the haberdashery and return his tricornered hat and to explain that, through no fault of his, it had shrunk. He instructed her to give it only to Mr. Joshua Laden or his nephew who ran the shop, and that they should credit his account rather than return his money. He assumed Polly would not be followed, and that even if she were, her errand would seem innocent enough and fall well within the persona he had established for himself.

  Now he would go to Daughters Coffee House.

  63

  He went to Daughters via the same circuitous route he had used before—across London Bridge, down the Thames, then back across the river using Blackfriars Bridge and finally to the coffee house. The proprietor, Mr. Collins, recognized him and said, “He is in the back room. I will take you there.”

  “Thank you.”

  When Abbott opened the door, Laden was sitting at the table with a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. There was also a quill and ink set, as Abbott had requested.

  “Welcome, Mr. Abbott. I almost didn’t look inside the hat. Fortunately, I did, and here I am.”

  “Thank you for coming. I have a plan which needs your help.”

  “I will try to help so long as it does not put me or my family at risk.”

  “It should not. It can be done in the open and has nothing of the untoward about it.”

  “Then why meet here in secrecy?”

  Abbott smiled. “I came openly into this place, as did you. What is secret about it?”

  “That might be funny, Mr. Ambassador, if this meeting didn’t reek so with the odour of sedition.”

  “Here is what I need, and you can judge the smell for yourself.”

  “Go on.”

  “But for a miracle, I expect General Washington to be executed.”

  “Yes, so I understand from the newspapers.”

  “I will not stay for the execution. It would be unseemly for the American delegation to watch Lord North’s government carry out what we consider to be a crime against the law of war.”

  “Are you in need of assistance for your departure?”

  “Yes. The night before the execution—there will be plenty of public notice of the date—I will need three coaches, each to hold two people, lined up outside the Tower of London starting at eleven o’clock. They should be ready to travel to Portsmouth, with whatever changes of horses are needed along the way. If you let me know the charge, I will pay you.”

  “Who are they for?”

  “My entire delegation will go to the Tower to say goodbye to Washington. When we emerge, we will take the coaches to Portsmouth, where a ship will be waiting.”

  “Innocent enough.”

  “Yes, and as it is a two-day journey, we will need a place to stay. As soon as the execution date is announced, please send someone ahead to an inn that is about halfway to reserve beds for the night of the scheduled execution for six people. I will give you the funds so you can pay for them in advance.”

  “Most country inns will not reserve rooms.”

  “They will if you offer to pay them more than their posted rate and tell them that if no one arrives to take the rooms they may keep the money.”

  “In whose name shall I reserve it?”

  “Brandywine.”

  “All right.”

  “Have you arranged for what comes next?”

  “I have, and Collins has his instructions as to how it should happen.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I will take my leave now, Ambassador, and wish you Godspeed.”

  “And to you, Mr. Laden, and I convey to you the thanks of the people of America for your help. When this war is ended, I hope you will visit me in Philadelphia as my guest.”

  “I will. Goodbye and good day.”

  He left the same way as he had come in.

  Abbott waited. After not too long, the door to the room opened, and there stood Mr. Collins with Mrs. Crankshaw. She took a few steps forward and shrieked when she recognized Abbott.

  “Why are you here?” she said. “I was to meet Mr. Laden. No one told me you would be here. Where is Mr. Laden?”

  She turned to flee the room but found the door locked.

  “Please sit down, Mrs. Crankshaw. No harm will come to you, I promise.”

  She stared at him for a moment, but finally walked over to the table and took a seat.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Certainly not. I would prefer to go.”

  “After you hear me out. I know you are spying for Mr. Laden, who is a friend of America, and at the same time for the British, telling them what Washington and others are doing in the Tower.”

  “This is not true.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part about the British.”

  “Mrs. Crankshaw, there is no point in lying to me about this. I know it to be true from Lord North himself.” That was not quite the case, of course, but it would do.

  “What do you want, then?” She had turned pale and was shaking.

  “Eventually, General Washington is going to be executed. The execution date will be announced. The night before, towards midnight, I am planning to visit him. I want you to arrive there two hours beforehand.”

  “To what end, sir?”

  “To inform any person who wishes to see Washington that he is praying on whether to approve the agreement that has been reached with the British and is not to be disturbed for any reason.”

  “And if someone tries to enter his cell?”

  “Block their way. Most people will refrain from hitting a woman.”

  She looked at him with an expression he could not read. It was certainly not one of acquiescence. They stared at each other in silence until Mrs. Crankshaw finally said, “I am not usually in the Tower at night.”

  “Do what you need to do to change that. Tell them you like General Washington, and he has asked you to make him coffee as he awaits his execution. Or whatever you need to say.”

  “All right.”

  Abbott reached inside his waistcoat and withdrew a handful of gold and silver coins. He put them in front of her and said, “If you need to, you can use these to help gain access to the Tower.”

  “What if I don’t use them?”

  “You can keep them.”

  She counted them out. “It is more money than I make in a year.”

  “Yes. I understand you have children. I’m sure it will help.”

  In bribing her he was, of course, taking a great risk should she decide to turn on him, even with his assumed limited immunity. A seditious conversation could be denied. Her possession of so much money would be more difficult to explain away. But he had concluded that a threat softened by a bribe would work better than a threat alone. He still needed to deliver the threat.

  “Mrs. Crankshaw,” he said, “if you do not do exactly as I have asked, or if you should tell anyone else about our conversation, I will make certain that Lord North learns about your treason.”

  “How will that assist you?”

  “It won’t. General Washington may hang, and I may hang. But
so will you.”

  “You won’t be able to bring Lord North proof of anything.”

  “Ah, but I will. I must have from you a receipt for the coins.” He took from a second inside pocket of his waistcoat a pre-written-out receipt. He handed it to her, pointed to the quill and ink and said, “I think you’ll find the amount correct. Please sign.”

  “I can only make an X.”

  “I know that not to be true, Mrs. Crankshaw.” He had seen her write something in the Tower. “Please sign or I will turn you in now.”

  Reluctantly, she signed her name and said, “May I be permitted to leave now?”

  “Yes. Please exit via the back stairway.” He pointed to a door at the rear of the room. As she reached the door, Abbott said, “Oh, Mrs. Crankshaw, there’s one more thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “General Washington thinks you make superb coffee.”

  64

  Black had grown up on his father’s estate hunting deer. Tracking them and tracking people turned out not to be so different. Instead of hiding behind trees or bushes, he used doorways and pillars. Nor was Abbott particularly careful to cover his steps. Black easily followed him through his circuitous route until he disappeared up the stairway to Daughters.

  Black considered following him into the establishment, but thought better of it because he’d then be unable to see who came and went. He stationed himself across the street and waited.

  Over the next hour, he saw only one person he knew go in—Mrs. Crankshaw, the woman who served food and made coffee in the Tower for guests favoured by the Warder of the Tower, which had never included Black, despite his having made a number of requests to be added to the list. She went up the steps, but despite Black waiting awhile for her, she didn’t come back down.

  After waiting a moment or two longer, it occurred to him that there might be another exit. He walked around to an alley that ran behind the building, just in time to see Mrs. Crankshaw descend a back stairway that hugged the outside of the building. She departed down the alley in the opposite direction.