Benedict Arnold had not only been a close friend of George Washington, but probably the army’s ablest and most energetic commander. Again and again he had demonstrated military skills and outstanding courage – at Ticonderoga, at Quebec, as a commander on Lake Champlain – and each time he had been denied a promotion to which he had every right, simply because of the rivalry between the provinces. And even though he was again bypassed when General Gates received the northern command from Schuyler, and even though Gates removed Arnold from all command, the general not only stayed in the field but actually commanded an aggressive battle which led directly to Burgoyne’s surrender. And while Gates claimed and received all the credit, Arnold’s reward was a leg wound which kept him out of action for many months.
Congress very belatedly restored Arnold’s rightful rank, and in the spring of 1778 the general appeared at Valley Forge, now a bitter, crippled man. Seeking a suitable post for this wounded war hero, Washington had, on the British evacuation of Philadelphia, made Arnold the military commandant of the capital.
Washington soon heard rumors that Arnold was courting a much younger, well-born belle of Philadelphia society. Peggy Shippen had stayed in Philadelphia all during the British occupation and had danced and flirted with the British officers. And soon it was rumored that General Arnold was preferring such suspected Tories to the virtuous Patriot maidens who had fled British-held Philadelphia; raised eyebrows watched as the general seemed to seek out as intimates many of the wealthy Tory businessmen; and eyebrows were raised still higher as the always-needy general suddenly began to entertain lavishly, even taking over Mount Pleasant, the mansion Sir William Howe had occupied.
But the vain and explosive Arnold brushed aside all such criticism, implied or spoken. He was perfectly happy to go on courting Peggy, or would have been happy except for that damned crowd of civilian busybodies known as Congress, who were always prodding him for accounting of public funds he had expended. Congress began asking other questions as well, such as why the general was so free in granting passes between British-held New York and Philadelphia. There was the matter of his use of public wagons for private ends, and charges that he was using his office to buy and sell goods at exorbitant profits. Though he was cleared of most of these charges in a court-martial, other charges kept cropping up as they had since the start of his military career. Although some of the charges against Arnold were doubtlessly trumped up, the hidden truth was that the general had been indeed guilty of financial peculations that so many suspected but could not prove. But the wounded hero continued to feel himself persecuted; he had sacrificed so much for the cause, and now he was being singled out for practices which so many others were conducting without ever having made any sacrifices.
Arnold finally married his Peggy, and the couple began to entertain so lavishly that even General Washington must have begun to have some doubts. But certainly, no Patriot was entitled more to a little pleasure than the hero who had suffered such injustices and who was so crippled that he needed four men to help him in and out of his coach. But Arnold’s marriage to this girl, almost twenty years younger than he, had caused his expenses to mount still higher. His spinster sister came to live with the couple and look after Arnold’s three sons. Hannah Arnold disapproved of her new sister-in-law – not so much because of Peggy’s taste for luxuries than her susceptibility to any attentive man.
But during the spring of 1779, matters with Benedict Arnold went far beyond shady business dealings. In New York, Major John Andre, an elegant, foppish adjutant to Sir Henry Clinton, began to receive mysterious letters through devious channels, hinting strongly that a highly placed but unnamed American officer might offer “his services to the commander in chief of the British forces in any way that would most effectually restore the former government . . . either by immediately joining the British Army or cooperating on some concealed plan with Sir Henry Clinton.” Andre, with whom Peggy had openly flirted during the British occupation of Philadelphia, was more than interested, and he leaped at the bait. The Major soon found out that he had no starry-eyed dreamer to deal with, but a hard-headed businessman, now revealed as the celebrated Benedict Arnold, who insisted on substantial monetary rewards, a rank in the British Army, and possibly a title for his services. Demands piled on demands, until the British commanders reluctantly closed the file.
But a year later, in June of 1780, the entire affair was suddenly revived as the American general abruptly made a startling offer – Benedict Arnold spoke of obtaining the command of West Point, fifty miles up the Hudson River from New York, the only true strongpoint created by the Continental Army. Volunteer engineers from abroad – men like Thaddeus Kosciuszko – had designed it, and millions of dollars and three years of hard labor had created the towering ramparts of the fortress. And now General Arnold offered to turn it all over to the British in New York. This appealed greatly to Sir Henry, who had Andre transmit his interest at once, adding that there would be “ample stipend.”
It was on this last point that negotiations threatened to break down once more, for there was a considerable difference between Clinton’s definition of ample and Arnold’s. The Connecticut general demanded not only a lump-sum payment for the surrender of the fortress, but also a specified amount per head for every American soldier he was able to turn in to the British as prisoners of war. Haggling dragged on, while Arnold prudently began to turn his possessions into cash, banking the proceeds in British-held New York through various obliging agents.
Ironically, at this very moment, Arnold’s plan nearly was destroyed by the very same offer he had so long awaited. To his frequent requests for the West Point command, Washington had always replied that “as we had a prospect of an active and vigorous campaign, I should be glad of General Arnold’s aid and assistance.” However, the command of West Point would be utterly unworthy of an officer of Arnold’s rank and abilities. Yet, if Arnold was really too crippled for a field command, as he now insisted he was, “I should readily indulge him.” But in late July, Washington finally decided to offer his long-time friend and controversial general the position to which his rank and abilities entitled him – command of a wing of the main army.
Arnold’s reaction amazed Washington. “His countenance changed and he appeared to be quite fallen, and, instead of thanking me or expressing any pleasure at the appointment, never opened his mouth.” The soldier who had always been so eager for service just stood there in dreadful silence. And on hearing the news at a Philadelphia dinner party, Peggy Arnold had hysterics, which was interpreted as a young bride’s fear that, on active duty, her husband might be killed – and she could not be calmed, even though friends explained that this was in fact a promotion for her husband. However such reactions may have struck Washington, he soon had the orders changed, and on August 3, 1780, the commander in chief of the American forces announced that “My General Arnold will take command of the garrison at West Point.”