Part 38 (1/2)
As we thus reach the end of one of the saddest episodes in American history, our sympathy cannot fail for the moment to go out toward the sufferer, nor can we help contrasting these pa.s.sionate dying words with the last cynical scoff of that other traitor, Charles Lee, when he begged that he might not be buried within a mile of any church, as he did not wish to keep bad company after death. From beginning to end the story of Lee is little more than a vulgar melodrama; but into the story of Arnold there enters that element of awe and pity which, as Aristotle pointed out, is an essential part of real tragedy. That Arnold had been very shabbily treated, long before any thought of treason entered his mind, is not to be denied. That he may honestly have come to consider the American cause hopeless, that he may really have lost his interest in it because of the French alliance,--all this is quite possible. Such considerations might have justified him in resigning his commission; or even, had he openly and frankly gone over to the enemy, much as we should have deplored such a step, some persons would always have been found to judge him charitably, and accord him the credit of acting upon principle. But the dark and crooked course which he did choose left open no alternative but that of unqualified condemnation. If we feel less of contempt and more of sorrow in the case of Arnold than in the case of such a weakling as Charles Lee, our verdict is not the less unmitigated.[38] Arnold's fall was by far the more terrible, as he fell from a greater height, and into a depth than which none could be lower.
It is only fair that we should recall his services to the cause of American independence, which were unquestionably greater than those of any other man in the Continental army except Was.h.i.+ngton and Greene. But it is part of the natural penalty that attaches to backsliding such as his, that when we hear the name of Benedict Arnold these are not the things which it suggests to our minds, but the name stands, and will always stand, as a symbol of unfaithfulness to trust.
The enormity of Arnold's conduct stands out in all the stronger relief when we contrast with it the behaviour of the common soldiers whose mutiny furnished the next serious obstacle with which Was.h.i.+ngton had to contend at this period of the war.
[Sidenote: Mutiny of Pennsylvania troops, Jan. 1, 1781]
In the autumn of 1780, owing to the financial and administrative chaos which had overtaken the country, the army was in a truly pitiable condition. The soldiers were clothed in rags and nearly starved, and many of them had not seen a dollar of pay since the beginning of the year. As the winter frosts came on there was much discontent, and the irritation was greatest among the soldiers of the Pennsylvania line who were encamped on the heights of Morristown. Many of these men had enlisted at the beginning of 1778, to serve ”for three years or during the war;” but at that bright and hopeful period, just after the victory of Saratoga, n.o.body supposed that the war could last for three years more, and the alternative was inserted only to insure them against being kept in service for the full term of three years in spite of the cessation of hostilities. Now the three years had pa.s.sed, the war was not ended, and the prospect seemed less hopeful than in 1778. The men felt that their contract was fulfilled and asked to be discharged. But the officers, unwilling to lose such disciplined troops, the veterans of Monmouth and Stony Point, insisted that the contract provided for three years' service or more, in case the war should last longer; and they refused the requested discharge. On New Year's Day, 1781, after an extra ration of grog, 1,300 Pennsylvania troops marched out of camp, in excellent order, under command of their sergeants, and seizing six field-pieces, set out for Philadelphia, with declared intent to frighten Congress and obtain redress for their wrongs. Their commander, General Wayne, for whom they entertained great respect and affection, was unable to stop them, and after an affray in which one man was killed and a dozen were wounded, they were perforce allowed to go on their way. Alarm guns were fired, couriers were sent to forewarn Congress and to notify Was.h.i.+ngton; and Wayne, attended by two colonels, galloped after the mutineers, to keep an eye upon them, and restrain their pa.s.sions so far as possible. Was.h.i.+ngton could not come to attend to the affair in person, for the Hudson was not yet frozen and the enemy's fleet was in readiness to ascend to West Point the instant he should leave his post.
Congress sent out a committee from Philadelphia, accompanied by President Reed, to parley with the insurgents, who had halted at Princeton and were behaving themselves decorously, doing no harm to the people in person or property. They allowed Wayne and his colonels to come into their camp, but gave them to understand that they would take no orders from them. A sergeant-major acted as chief-commander, and his orders were implicitly obeyed. When Lafayette, with St. Clair and Laurens, came to them from Was.h.i.+ngton's headquarters, they were politely but firmly told to go about their business. And so matters went on for a week. President Reed came as far as Trenton, and wrote to Wayne requesting an interview outside of Princeton, as he did not wish to come to the camp himself and run the risk of such indignity as that with which Was.h.i.+ngton's officers had just been treated. As the troops a.s.sembled on parade Wayne read them this letter. Such a rebuke from the president of their native state touched these poor fellows in a sensitive point. Tears rolled down many a bronzed and haggard cheek.
They stood about in little groups, talking and pondering and not half liking the business which they had undertaken.
[Portrait: Jos. Reed]
[Sidenote: Fate of Clinton's emissaries]
At this moment it was discovered that two emissaries from Sir Henry Clinton were in the camp, seeking to tamper with the sergeant-major, and promising high pay, with bounties and pensions, if they would come over to Paulus Hook or Staten Island and cast in their lot with the British.
In a fury of wrath the tempters were seized and carried to Wayne to be dealt with as spies. ”We will have General Clinton understand,” said the men, ”that we are not Benedict Arnolds!” Encouraged by this incident, President Reed came to the camp next day, and was received with all due respect. He proposed at once to discharge all those who had enlisted for three years or the war, to furnish them at once with such clothing as they most needed, and to give paper certificates for the arrears of their pay, to be redeemed as soon as possible. These terms, which granted unconditionally all the demands of the insurgents, were instantly accepted. All those not included in the terms received six weeks' furlough, and thus the whole force was dissolved. The two spies were tried by court-martial and promptly hanged.
[Sidenote: Further mutiny suppressed]
The quickness with which the demands of these men were granted was an index to the alarm which their defection had excited; and Was.h.i.+ngton feared that their example would be followed by the soldiers of other states. On the 20th of January, indeed, a part of the New Jersey troops mutinied at Pompton, and declared their intention to do like the men of Pennsylvania. The case was becoming serious; it threatened the very existence of the army; and a sudden blow was needed. Was.h.i.+ngton sent from West Point a brigade of Ma.s.sachusetts troops, which marched quickly to Pompton, surprised the mutineers before daybreak, and compelled them to lay down their arms without a struggle. Two of the ringleaders were summarily shot, and so the insurrection was quelled.
Thus the disastrous year which had begun when Clinton sailed against Charleston, the year which had witnessed the annihilation of two American armies and the bankruptcy of Congress, came at length to an end amid treason and mutiny. It had been the most dismal year of the war, and it was not strange that many Americans despaired of their country. Yet, as we have already seen, the resources of Great Britain, attacked as she was by the united fleets of France, Spain, and Holland, were scarcely less exhausted than those of the United States. The moment had come when a decided military success must turn the scale irrevocably the one way or the other; and events had already occurred at the South which were soon to show that all the disasters of 1780 were but the darkness that heralds the dawn.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] The story of his attempt to enter the service of Luzerne, the French minister who succeeded Gerard, rests upon insufficient authority.
[33] The charge against Mrs. Arnold, in Parton's _Life of Burr_, i. 126, is conclusively refuted by Sabine, in his _Loyalists of the American Revolution_, i. 172-178. I think there can be no doubt that Burr lied.
[34] The version of the reprimand given by Marbois, however, is somewhat apocryphal.
[35] To a gentleman, like Clinton, such a proposal was a gross insult, to which the only fitting answer would have been, ”What do you take me for?” The scheme was highly discreditable to all concerned, and if Was.h.i.+ngton was one of these, it must be p.r.o.nounced a blot upon his record. The only explanation would be that the ”vague sense of injustice”
mentioned below must have been felt by him so keenly as to warp for the moment his moral judgment.
[36] In 1782, the British government granted him a pension of 1,000 a year for his lifetime and that of his wife. Arnold died in 1801, Mrs. Arnold in 1804.
[37] As Lecky well says, ”there is something inexpressibly touching in the tender affection and the undeviating admiration for her husband, which she retained through all the vicissitudes of his dark and troubled life.” _Hist. of England in the Eighteenth Century_, iv. 136. Her affection seems to have been repaid with perfect loyalty on Arnold's part. His domestic life seems to have been above reproach, in which respect he presents a strong contrast to such utterly depraved wretches as Charles Lee and Aaron Burr.
[38] [Ill.u.s.tration: THE SARATOGA MONUMENT]
This is the most suitable place for making mention of the Saratoga monument, which was erected in 1883, but is not yet completed. The obelisk, 155 feet in height, stands upon a bluff about 300 feet above the Hudson river, and just south of the road from Schuylerville to Saratoga Springs. The view here given is taken from the southeast. The great pointed-arch niches in the base, just over the doorways, are occupied by bronze statues of heroic size. Of these it was necessary that one should be the unworthy Gates, who commanded the army and received Burgoyne's surrender. The second and third are obviously Schuyler and Morgan. The fourth niche is vacant. The place belongs to Arnold, who was especially the hero of Saratoga. But for Arnold, the relieving army of St. Leger might have come down the Mohawk valley. But for Arnold, the 19th of September would have seen Gates's position turned at Bemis Heights. But for Arnold the victory of October 7th would probably have been indecisive, so that time would have been allowed for Clinton to come up the Hudson. In commemorating Saratoga, to leave Arnold unnoticed would be impossible. He has therefore his niche, but it is vacant. When the monument is completed, the names of the four generals are to be inscribed below their niches, and then the empty niche will speak as eloquently as the black veil that in the long series of portraits of Venetian doges covers the place of Marino Faliero.
In the view here given, the empty niche is seen on the left.
The niche on the right, or east, contains (on almost too small a scale to be here visible) the statue of Schuyler, with folded arms, gazing upon the field of surrender where he ought to have presided. On the north side stands Gates with a spy-gla.s.s, as in the final battle; while Arnold was winning victory for him, he stood on Bemis Heights to watch what he supposed would be the _retreat_ of the Americans! On the west side Morgan is in the att.i.tude of ordering his sharpshooter Tim Murphy to fire upon General Fraser. These poses were suggested by Colonel William Leete Stone, secretary of the Saratoga Monument a.s.sociation, to whom, indeed, the monument owes its existence.
The interior of the monument is finely decorated with bas-reliefs of scenes in the Burgoyne campaign.