Unintentionally, our travels this year have taken us to several locations where America’s most famous traitor (I’m referring to Benedict Arnold) showed the duality of his personality as a hero and as a villain.
Born in Norwich, Conn., Benedict Arnold was a successful merchant trader by the time that the American Revolution began. In 1775, he was elected Captain of a Connecticut militia unit and began his checkered militia career.
Over the next two years, he was to command troops in a number of victories; resign his commission in a huff and be reinstated; have his leg shattered on a mission to attack Quebec City; be promoted to Colonel and then Brigadier General; serve as military commander of Montreal until its fall to the British; narrowly avoid counter-charges in a court martial trial; become a widower; establish relationships with George Washington and Generals Philip Schuyler and Horatio Gates; feud with two lower-level but politically-connected officers (one of whom published a handbill directed at Arnold stating that “Money is this man’s God, and to get enough of it he would sacrifice his country”); offer to resign again in a huff but have Washington refuse it; be passed over for promotion again, this time to major general: and be wounded in his leg for a second time.
After his last offer to resign, Washington sent Arnold northward to upstate New York to aid with the region’s defense. In October 1777, British commander General John Burgoyne was pushing southward from Quebec with an ultimate aim of meeting up with other British troops in New York City and then cutting off New England from the southern colonies. Unfortunately for Burgoyne, he was under-supplied and under-manned when he met American troops and militia commanded by General Horatio Gates near Saratoga, N.Y.
Arnold had joined Gates’ troops just before the first clash with Burgoyne’s forces at Saratoga. Off the field of battle, Arnold and Gates also clashed, so seriously that Gates relieved Arnold of his command. Nonetheless, in the heat of the Battle of Bemis Heights, one of the first engagements on the Saratoga battlefield, Arnold took command of a group of Americans and led them in an assault which greatly contributed to the final American victory. But Arnold was severely injured yet again in his leg during the battle, and he was evacuated from the field of battle.
On the Saratoga Battlefield today, there are two monuments that mark Arnold’s contributions, albeit in quite backhanded ways. The “Boot Monument” (below left) was erected in 1887 by a New York politician and the inscription reads, “In memory of the ‘most brilliant soldier’ of the Continental Army who was desperately wounded on this spot the sally port of Burgoyne’s Great Western Redoubt 7th October, 1777 winning for his countrymen the decisive battle of the American Revolution and for himself the rank of Major General.” What is lacking on the monument is any mention of Benedict Arnold’s name.
The Saratoga Monument, completed in 1883, commemorates the defeat of the British army at Saratoga, the first time in history that British forces ever surrendered. The niches on the sides of the monuments hold life-size statues of the American military leaders who contributed to the victory: General Philip Schuyler (Alexander’s Hamilton’s eventual father-in-law), Colonel Daniel Morgan, and General Horatio Gates. The fourth niche is pointedly empty (the left niche in the photo above right), representing the heroism of Arnold that was later overshadowed by his treason.
After the Battle of Saratoga, Arnold was unable to assume a field command, so he was appointed military governor of Philadelphia in 1778 while he recuperated from his wound. There he met the woman who was to become his second wife, the young Peggy Shippen, daughter of a suspected Loyalist. After their marriage, the couple lived a lavish lifestyle fueled by growing debt. In 1779, Arnold was appointed commander of the American fort at West Point, an important stronghold on the Hudson River.
Protecting the river was so important that General Washington ordered that an iron chain be constructed (see the photo at left) and stretched across the river, thus preventing British military ships from traveling to New York City from Canada. (The cover photo is a view of the Hudson River from West Point; the lower right corner is near where the chain was placed, and also near where Arnold escaped in a row boat — but more on that in a bit.)
When we visited West Point, we saw a section of the chain on display on the campus. (Interestingly, we have also visited the Sterling Iron Works where the iron for the chain was forged under strict orders from Washington.)
Elsewhere on the campus, plaques in Old Cadet Chapel honor all the generals who served in the Revolutionary War, but Arnold’s name is missing from his marker.
The chain across the Hudson was never challenged, in large part because the British knew about it — thanks to Benedict Arnold.
By late 1779, Arnold’s grievances about his treatment in the Continental Army had grown considerably, and he was soon negotiating with an acquaintance of his wife, British Major John André, to give up the American fortification at West Point in return for a British command. Oh, and also for a comfortable sum of pounds sterling.
Before Arnold could make good on his promise to the British, Major André was apprehended in civilian clothes while carrying papers that incriminated Arnold. André was hanged as a spy, but Arnold narrowly avoided capture himself and escaped to British lines before he could be arrested.
At right is a painting by American illustrator Howard Pyle completed in 1898 and entitled “Arnold Tells His Wife of the Discovery of His Treason.”
We saw this painting at the Brandywine Museum of Art in Chadd’s Ford, Penn.; while the museum focuses on the work of the Wyeth family of artists, N.C. Wyeth was a student of Howard Pyle, so there is a strong connection.
The oil painting was created to accompany Henry Cabot Lodge’s historical series on “The Story of the Revolution” that was published in Scribner’s magazine.
In the work, Arnold’s wife lays unconscious at his feet, having fainted after hearing her husband’s confession. I was struck by the high drama of the scene in the painting, and was feeling sympathetic to Arnold’s wife at the time.
Later we learned that she was probably equally (if not more so) culpable in Arnold’s treason.
Each year in September, the patriots in New London, Conn., near to where Arnold was a successful merchant before the war, hold a “Burning of Benedict Arnold” festival. At this event, a two-faced effigy of Arnold is paraded through the streets before being torched in a bonfire. I hope some day to be able to attend.
One thought on “On the Trail of Benedict Arnold”