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BENEDICT ARNOLD- PATRIOT?
Presented by;
Bro. John M. Roushey
Worshipful Master, Officers, and Brethren, of Hiram Lodge Number One, I
welcome the opportunity to be here tonight and present my side of the story. I
have
had a checkered career, and I must admit that my place in the history of the
Revolutionary War, is by all accounts, unique. The name Benedict Arnold has been
sworn at, and sworn by since the beginning of the war with England; BY BOTH
SIDES I MIGHT ADD.
Contrary to what you may have heard, I was not born with horns, a tail, or
cloven
feet. I was born to the son of a sea captain in 1741 in Norwich Connecticut. My
father
was a successful trader, and sent me to Dr. Cogswell's School in Canterbury
Connecticut to receive a classical education. My mother died while I was in
school.
Her death so affected my father that he sought consolation in the bottle. Two
years
later he died, a bankrupt and broken man. When the cash ran out I was forced to
cut
short my schooling. From that point on money would be my shield. It also became
a
crucial Ingredient in my self-esteem.
Because of my economic condition, I was apprenticed in an Apothecary shop
owned by my two cousins. By the time I was twenty one I had opened up my own
shop in New Haven Connecticut. It was here that I met, fell in love, and married
Margaret Mansfield, "The Belle of New Haven. We were married for eight years and
she bore me three children. She died an untimely death 5 years ago, during my
first
campaign in Canada. Fortunately my spinster sister Hannah was able to move in
and take care of my three small sons.
I joined Hiram Lodge here in Rochester NY about sixteen years ago. What drew
me to Free Masonry was the fact that Masons wielded vast influence throughout
the
Colonies. Individual members owned most of the major newspapers. Most of us had
been Whigs, favoring representative government. It seemed to me that Freemasons
tended to be prosperous, articulate, and well educated. I must admit that
membership gave me automatic entree to the highest levels of business throughout
the Colonies.
I was quite successful at my trade, but with the French and Indian Wars winding
down, England found it necessary to raise money to pay for the fighting. Taxing
the
colonies seemed to be the way to go. The Stamp Act, and other taxes struck at
the
heart of commerce, here in the Colonies, (and my personal wealth). The Stamp Act
was an abomination to me, and I was one of the first to protest. My protest
quickly
turned to action when I raised a company of volunteers, over the objections of
the
town Council, and marched off to join George Washington near Boston. When I
arrived in Cambridge, I sought out Dr. Joseph Warren, Master of St. Andrew's
Lodge
(whose members were involved in the Boston Tea Party), and told him of my plan.
He pushed through a resolution appointing me Colonel of the Massachusetts
militia,
with orders to enlist four hundred men. Here I was a brash young man of 35,
newly
appointed Colonel in the militia, with four hundred men, ready to take on the
British
might.
In the Spring of 1775 my little army headed out to capture Fort Ticonderoga. The
Continental Army was woefully short of cannon and other supplies. We knew that
the
Fort was lightly guarded and well stocked with army supplies and heavy
artillery. Our
orders were to capture the Fort, and deliver the cannons to Boston. On our way
we
were joined by Ethan Allen, and 100 of his Green Mountain Boys. We quickly took
the poorly defended fort.
You know, after I risked the lives of my men, the Congress resolved , in their
infinite
wisdom, that the cannons should be taken to the south end of the lake,
inventoried
and held there, to be returned to the British when relations were normalized.
Fortunately anti-British sentiment prevailed and Fort Ticonderoga was
reinforced.
When I submitted my expenses to the Massachusetts Legislature I received nothing
but grief. That's not true, I received half the money and a lot of grief. I
pleaded with
Silas Deane, and several months later the Continental Congress paid the balance.
Why must everything be so difficult?
My first real taste of battle was attempting to capture Quebec; with a small
force of
only 1000 troops, and in a blinding snowstorm. Our casualties were extremely
heavy:
most of the officers were killed or wounded. I was shot in the left leg. After
several
unsuccessful sorties we settled in siege around the city to wait out the winter.
I was
cited for bravery and commissioned as a Brigadier General in the Continental
Army.
With the arrival of 13,000 British troops the following Spring, any hope of
annexing
Canada was lost. General Burgoyne's orders were to move down through New York
to Albany thereby cutting the colonies in half.
With the British building gunboats, we knew the Fort would be in jeopardy by the
end of the summer. I set our men to building boats. We felt that we had a small,
but
presentable fleet; when our spies told us that the British were building The
"Inflexible", a three masted Man-Of-War with 20 cannons- nine and twelve
pounders.
We had no defense against that weapon.
Congress didn't make my job very easy. They changed the command of the
northern army from General Schuyler to General Gates. Personally I preferred
General Schuyler. Phillip Schuyler, was a great deal like me in always pushing
forward. General Gates; well, General Gates was known as "Old Granny Gates" by
his men. Need I say more? When we were ready to sail off, General Gates, as
could
be expected, gave me specific orders: We were not to engage the British Fleet.
If
our presence did not deter them, we were to return to Fort Ticonderoga. As you
know
control of the Hudson River was crucial to the Colonial cause. It enabled
supplies to
travel from the central colonies to New England, and without that waterway the
war
would be all but over.
Well, we did engage the enemy, and it was some battle. It got hot and heavy
there
for awhile (I had one ship shot out from under me). We were badly outgunned, but
we managed to delay the British fleet for over a week. Unfortunately we were
running
short of ammunition. One particularly foggy night, I managed to slip the
remnants of
our navy past the British fleet, and make it back to Fort Ticonderoga.
When the British army disembarked at Crown Point, General Carlton boasted that
he would be in the Fort before the week was out. A pitched battle ensued for
several
days. To our amazement, the British got back in their ships and withdraw. The
time
needed to build "The Inflexible", and the one week plus delay created by my
small
navy had done the job. Albany was saved!
Controversy always seems to swirl around me. The London Register ascribed
General Carlton's withdrawal to "The countenance of Benedict Arnold". While here
at
home I was being slandered by General Maxwell, who stated, "You may have heard
that a few days ago we had a fine fleet, but thanks to General Benedict Arnold,
that
evil genius of the north, has, with a good deal of industry, got us clear of it.
General
Waterbury, commander of the only ship that struck its colors, intimated that I
had
purposely left him behind to surrender to the enemy and thereby buy time to make
my own escape. It seems that I had more detractors at home, than I have in
England.
With Fort Ticonderoga, and the Hudson Valley safe for the winter we were
ordered south to reinforce the "General" who was in a route from New York. He
had
been badly beaten at Manhattan, Brooklyn, and the New Jersey Plains. His troops
were deserting in droves! It was so bad that the British didn't even bother to
pursue
him to Valley Forge. Most of the Colonial enlistments were up by year end, and
the
British were sure that the army would be all but gone by the new year. Later
that
winter I received another slap in the face by the Continental Congress. Five
men, all
junior to me, were promoted to Major General and I WAS NOT. That May I was
finally given my promotion, but not the seniority over those promoted the
previously.
I threatened to resign, but, as usual, the Congress did nothing.
In June of '77 Fort Ticonderoga fell. Gentleman Johnny Burgoyne realizing that
he
had one last chance to capture Albany before the winter set in, with one months
rations crossed the river to take his best shot.
On the way to Saratoga, I recruited volunteers, and by the time I met with
General
Gates, we had a presentable army. Knowing Burgoyne had only a months supply of
rations Gates wanted to wait him out. I felt that a frontal attack would crush
the enemy.
The battle at Freemans' Farm was a bloody one. Our sharp shooters, firing from
the
woods took a terrible toll on the British. After several sorties I felt that if
I had the
troops Gates was holding in reserve we could have broken through the center and
defeated the British. Gates wouldn't go for it. He wanted to keep those reserves
where they were for "God only knows why!". Gates and I had a horrific argument
over that decision. In the heat of the argument I resigned.
When the second battle for Saratoga started, General Gates reminded me of my
resignation and ordered me to the rear. I was like an old war horse, chomping at
the
bit. I could wait no longer. Orders or no I road off to the front to the cheers
of the men.
We broke through the lines and put the British to rout Unfortunately, I was shot
in the
left leg (AGAIN). To make matters worse my horse fell on the leg breaking it in
two
places. It never has properly healed.
Two days later, faced with starvation, and surrounded by Colonial troops
Burgoyne, surrendered. Burgoynne, testified before the British Parliament, the
following year, that his defeat could be directly attributed to Benedict Arnold.
Once,
after my defection, I asked a captured American Captain what would happen if I
was
ever captured. He told me, "Well sir, I suppose they would cut off your left
leg, and
bury it with honors, and hang the rest of you.
As I was lying in my hospital bed in excruciating pain, I got to wondering: Who
was
this Continental Congress who could arbitrarily pass me over for promotion, and
then
refuse to give me the seniority I deserved after I was promoted? After all that
I had
sacrificed; my life, my money, my reputation! It was the same civilian
government
that made General Gates Commander of the Northern Army. Where was he when I
attacked Quebec in that blinding snowstorm? Where was he when I slipped our
Navy past the British fleet in that dense fog? Why wouldn't General Gates let me
be
in command when we licked Burgoyne? I got to wondering if it was all worthwhile.
The winter that followed my serious injury, did have one bright point. The
French
came to the rescue with an infusion of money and troops. I have been told, by
more
than one, that my victory at Saratoga was the deciding factor. Hearing of the
French
decision, a British peace commission was sent to grant all of the colonies'
demands
short of independence. Because of the latter stipulation, the Congress refused
to
meet with the commissioners. What a difference it could have made to my lifes
journey had the offer been accepted.
When I met with Washington, that winter, I could barely walk let alone take over
an
active command. I was appointed Commander of Philadelphia when the British army
withdrew the following spring. I admit that political acuity, sound judgement,
and tact
are not my strong points. I am a soldier, and commanding a CIVILIAN city was not
my cup of tea; and I managed to prove that point on many occasions.
I took over the city like a conquering general, with all the bells and whistles.
I
moved into the old Penn mansion, that was previously occupied by the British
commander, and entertained most lavishly. I didn't make any difference to me
whether the "ladies" were Whigs or Tories. The Quakers thought poorly of my
shenanigans.
The one bright light in the governing of Philadelphia, was my meeting, and
marrying Peggy Shippen. She is a handsome woman and considered by most to be
a "Pert Tory", but I considered her a beautiful catch. She is twenty years my
junior
but so what. I guess it was at this time that I first considered switching my
allegiance
to the British.
My somewhat heavy hand in governing the city did draw me many powerful
enemies. Joseph Reed, President of the Pennsylvania Council went to the
Continental Congress with a list of eight complaints. The Congress removed six
of
the charges, but added two more, and ordered the commander-in- chief to court
marshal me on eight counts. I was stunned. I chose to defend myself; a common
practice in court marshalls. I should have heeded Poor Richard's advice, when he
said: "He who acts as his own lawyer, has a fool for a client". Finally it was
over and I
was found guilty of one charge. Ironically the lesser of all the charges. The
sentence
was an official public reprimand by the General. That was more than I could
stomach. Anything less than complete repudiation was unacceptable.
Peggy and I on many occasions had talked about how our life would be after the
British had won the war. Surely it was in America's interest to stay within the
Empire.
Once it was apparent that the cause was lost, men on both sides would recognize
my many deeds, and reward me as a hero. My decision to hasten the inevitable
seemed to be my patriotic duty.
After I resigned as Commander of Philadelphia, I knew that my physical condition
had not improved sufficiently for a command of a line unit. I had to find a way
to
speed up the end of the war without extensive loss of lives.
I saw my opportunity. The fortifications at West Point were being improved,
under
the direction of Washington. I wrote to the "General" requesting that I be given
the
command of the Fort, and the job of completing its fortification. I believed
that turning
the fort over to the British would hasten the end of this insurrection.
I did finally receive command of the "Point". I was in command of the fort for
fifty-two days. It was an exhilarating experience. I hadn't felt so sure of
myself in a
long time. I knew what I had to do, and, by God, I was going to do it.
Unfortunately my house of cards was falling down around me. My friend and
British confidant Major Andre' was arrested as a spy and hanged. Several of my
cohorts were found out. My true position was brought to light, and I was forced
to
escape to New York City where I was reunited with my dear Peggy.
I had only been in New York City for a couple of months when, to my surprise, I
received the summons from my Lodge demanding my presence here tonight. I
welcome the opportunity to be here tonight and to present my side of the story,
and
give you some of my reasons for my actions. I have known many of you for a long
time and quite personally. I know that you take your oaths as Masons' very
seriously. I also know that many of you believe, as I do, that this cause is
lost. I have
fought hard, HARDER THAN MOST OF YOU I might add, for the cause for
Independence, my pronounced limp only reinforces that fact.
Brethren, thank you for your patience, attentiveness and courtesies this
evening.
Do I consider myself a traitor? Not really. Do I wish to remain a member of this
Worshipful Lodge? Most assuredly. My fate is in your hands.
BENEDICT ARNOLD- A paper presented by
Thomas Eynon 1985
BENEDICT ARNOLD IN PHILADELPHIA-
Ray Thomas 1975
THE MAN IN THE MIRROR- A LIFE OF
BENEDICT ARNOLD
Clair Brandt 1994
BENEDICT ARNOLD- THE DARK EAGLE-
Brian Richard Boylan
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