His expensive Style of Living and pecuniary Embarrassments.—First Ideas of betraying his Country.—Application to the French Ambassador.—Marriage.—Tales Command at West Point.

The decision of the court-martial was received with an ill grace by General Arnold, and with concealed emotions of deep resentment. He had loudly expressed a conviction, and perhaps he had actually persuaded himself into a belief, that a military tribunal would acquit him honorably of all the charges. In the same degree, that he had allowed himself to be flattered with this sanguine anticipation, was the rankling of the wound now inflicted on his self-complacency and pride. He submitted to the reprimand, however, in sullen reserve and with a pretended acquiescence.

General Washington, in performing the duty imposed on him as the head of the army, exercised all the delicacy, which he thought due to an officer so highly distinguished by his rank and bravery, and which was likewise conformable to his own character and feelings. The language employed on the occasion, as preserved by M. de Marbois, was as follows. "Our profession is the chastest of all. The shadow of a fault tarnishes our most brilliant actions. The least inadvertence may cause us to lose that public favor, which is so hard to be gained. I reprimand you for having forgotten, that, in proportion as you had rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have shown moderation towards our citizens. Exhibit again those splendid qualities, which have placed you in the rank of our most distinguished generals. As far as it shall be in my power, I will myself furnish you with opportunities for regaining the esteem, which you have formerly enjoyed." Terms more soothing, or better suited to operate on a noble and generous mind, could hardly be chosen. But they had no effect on the irritated and relentless temper of Arnold. He was equally deaf to the counsels of wisdom, the admonitions of friendship, and the appeals of honor. He had already made secret advances to the enemy under a feigned name, intending to square his future conduct according to circumstances, and prepared, should the court decide against him, to seek revenge at any hazard. From the moment he harbored such a thought in his breast he was a lost man. Honor, virtue, sincerity, love of country, love of fame, all were gone. His companionship was with despair and guilt.

Dissembling his real motives, after being restored to his former standing in the army, he asked permission of absence during the summer, assigning as a reason, that his private affairs were deranged and required his attention, that there was little prospect of an active campaign, and that his wounds were not yet in a condition to enable him to endure the fatigues of the field. Washington readily granted his request, and he returned to Philadelphia.

From the time he took the command in that city he had lived in a style of splendor and extravagance, which was wholly unsuited to his fortune or any reasonable expectancy. He established himself in a magnificent house, formerly occupied by the Penn family, furnished it expensively, drove his coach and four, and indulged in every kind of ostentatious profusion, which could gratify his vanity and his passion for luxury and parade. When M. Gerard, the French ambassador, first arrived in Philadelphia, he was entertained at a public dinner given by General Arnold; and, for several days afterwards, the ambassador and his suite occupied apartments as guests in his house.

This style of living could not be maintained without funds. Debts were contracted, and temporary supplies were thus procured; but a declining credit soon produced a conviction of improvidence, and excited forebodings, which even Arnold could not contemplate with unconcern. Too proud to acknowledge his folly by abandoning it, and too desperate to be governed by the plain rules of integrity or prudence, he resorted to all the methods for acquiring money, which his ingenuity could devise or his high station put in his power. Among these were some by no means creditable to his principles, or consistent with his rank as an officer. He entered into petty speculations and practised unworthy artifices for gain in small matters as well as great. He united with others in privateering enterprises and various commercial projects of hazard. The results were frequently unfortunate, and the losses outweighed the profits. On one occasion, when Count d'Estaing approached the American coast, and it was supposed the British would be driven from New York, he formed a copartnership with two other individuals for purchasing goods within the enemy's lines, to the amount of thirty thousand pounds sterling. Although there was nothing positively wrong in this transaction, yet it was one in which a major-general of the American service, holding at that time an important command, could not be reputably engaged.

In the midst of his embarrassments, about a month after his trial, he renewed a petition to Congress for a settlement of his accounts. These had already been referred to commissioners, who made a report; and the accounts were then sent to the Treasury Board for settlement. The original difficulties, however, were not removed. Arnold insisted on his old claims, quarrelled with the members of Congress who doubted them, and wearied the others with his importunities and complaints, till his enemies were provoked and disgusted at his effrontery, and the patience of his friends was worn out. Indeed, the affair had grown into such a state of perplexity, that the prospect of a satisfactory termination was more clouded, and seemed more distant, than ever.

Already abandoned to the impulse of passion, disappointed, chagrined, and pressed by his wants, he resolved to unburden his griefs to the French envoy, M. de la Luzerne, and apply to him for pecuniary aid. That minister, having an admiration of his bravery and military talents, and believing generous usage the best means of reclaiming such a man from his errors, was accustomed to treat him with marked civility, and had shown no change in his deportment after the censure of the court-martial and the disgrace of a reprimand. Encouraged by this amenity and kindness, Arnold approached him with confidence, and expressed his sentiments and wishes without reserve.

The interview has been described with graphic minuteness by M. de Marbois, who was then secretary to the French legation, and who, if he was not present, must have learned the particulars from the minister himself. Arnold spoke of his disinterested services, his sacrifices, his wounds; he complained of the ingratitude of his country, the injustice of Congress, and the persecuting malice of his enemies. The war, he said, in which he had borne so large a share, had ruined his private affairs; and he added, that, unless he could borrow money to the amount of his debts, he should be obliged to go into retirement, and quit a profession, which rewarded him only with poverty. He intimated, in short, that it would be for the interest of the French King to secure the attachment and gratitude of an American general so high in rank, and that these might be purchased by the favor of such a loan as he desired.

The minister listened to this discourse with pain, but he answered with the frankness of a true friend, and the firmness of an honorable and honest mind. "You desire of me a service," said he, "which it would be easy for me to render, but which would degrade us both. When the envoy of a foreign power gives, or, if you will, lends money, it is ordinarily to corrupt those who receive it, and to make them the creatures of the sovereign, whom he serves; or rather he corrupts without persuading; he buys and does not secure. But the firm league entered into between the King and the United States is the work of justice and of the wisest policy. It has for its basis a reciprocal interest and good-will. In the mission, with which I am charged, my true glory consists in fulfilling it without intrigue or cabal, without resorting to any secret practices, and by the force alone of the conditions of the alliance." The effect of this plainness of speech upon the haughty and irritable temper of Arnold may be imagined.

But M. de la Luzerne did not content himself with refusing to give the bribe, and condemning the principles from which such a request emanated. He hoped to do more, and to win back to the path of duty and rectitude a man, who, by the force of his own resources and talents, had built up a reputation that had gained the applause of the world, and who was still capable of rendering important services to his country. With this view he addressed him in the language of expostulation and advice, reminding him that murmurs and resentments at the acts of public bodies, and the persecutions of political opponents, were the evidences of a weak rather than of a great mind resting on its own dignity and power; that a consciousness of innocence was his best support; and that a generous disregard of the artifices of his enemies, when his country's interests were at stake, was one of the strongest proofs he could give, that he deserved the respect and confidence of that portion of his fellow citizens, whose good opinion was most to be valued. He recurred to the renown of his former exploits, appealed to his sense of patriotism and honor, his love of glory, and represented in the most attractive colors the wide field of action yet before him, if he would suppress his anger, rise above misfortune, bear his troubles with fortitude, and unite, heart and hand, with his compatriots to finish the great work, in which he had already labored with so much credit to himself and benefit to his country.

These counsels had no weight with Arnold; he wanted money and not advice. He went away from the French minister indignant at the rebuff he had met with, mortified at his ill success, and, if his sensibility was not callous, oppressed with shame at so unguarded and ineffectual an exposure of his meanness. From that moment his purpose was fixed. Hitherto his intercourse with the enemy, though of several months' continuance, had been without a definite aim; clothed in such a shape, that it might be consummated or dropped according to the complexion of future events. The point was now reached, at which it was hopeless to deliberate, and pusillanimous to waver. Pride, vexation, revenge, hurried him to the fatal determination of betraying his country, as the last refuge of despair. It only remained for him to settle in his mind the manner in which this could so be done, as to produce the greatest advantage to himself, and injury to the cause he was about to desert. It was obvious, that the favor he might expect from his new friends would be in proportion to the harm he should do to their enemies.

In this train of reflection he thought of the command at West Point, as presenting the fairest opportunity for accomplishing his ends. It was a separate command, a very important post, and accessible to the enemy by water. His resolution being taken, all his views and efforts thenceforward were directed to that single object.

Another circumstance should be mentioned, which probably had a large share among the original causes of the defection of Arnold. When the British evacuated Philadelphia, many families remained behind, who had kept up close intimacies with the British officers, and who were known to be disaffected to the American cause. Prominent in this class, both for respectability and attachment to the old order of things, was the family of Mr. Edward Shippen, afterwards Chief Justice of the State of Pennsylvania. His youngest daughter, at that time under the age of eighteen, was beautiful, gay, attractive, and ambitious. She had been admired and flattered by the British officers, and was a conspicuous personage at the gorgeous festival of the Mischianza, an entertainment given by them in honor of Sir William Howe, on the occasion of his resigning the command of the army and departing for Europe. Her acquaintance with AndrÉ was on so familiar a footing, that she corresponded with him after the British army had retired to New York.

Arnold had not been many weeks in Philadelphia, before he was smitten with the charms of this lady, and sought her hand. Captivated with the splendor in which he lived, with his equipage and military display, her heart yielded to the impulse of youthful vanity and an aspiring ambition. His addresses were favorably received, and he married her. In addition to the biases of his wife, this alliance brought him into perpetual contact with persons, who had no sympathy with the friends of liberty, the advocates of independence, the defenders of their country's rights, but who, on the contrary, condemned their acts, and secretly hoped, that the power of the British King would crush all opposition and again predominate.

People of this stamp were ready enough to minister fuel to the flame, that burned in the breast of a passionate, soured, and discontented man, who had attained to so high a degree of consequence in the ranks of the opposite party.

They would not fail to encourage his discontent by aggravating its causes, by persuading him that he was neglected and ill-treated, that his services were undervalued, and that he had good reason for his complaints of ingratitude, injustice, and persecution. Such discourse, often repeated in his ears, and harmonizing with his impressions, would gradually give a current to his thoughts, and help to undermine the tottering fabric of his good resolutions.

Having formed his plan, he applied himself assiduously to the means of putting it in execution. As he had requested permission of absence from the army during the campaign, at the time of his trial, it was necessary to give some plausible reason for changing his mind. Hitherto he had not ceased to talk about his wounds, and to represent that these disabled him from taking an active part; but now he said his wounds were fast recovering, and, although he could not endure the fatigues of the field on horseback, yet a command requiring little bodily action, like that at West Point, he thought he could very well sustain; and his eagerness to rejoin his companions in arms, and render his country all the service in his power, prompted him to make every sacrifice of ease and comfort, which was not absolutely forbidden by the state of his health. Such was the language with which he approached his friends in Congress, who had adhered to him through all his troubles, and whom he knew to have influence with the Commander-in-chief, particularly General Schuyler and the other New York delegates.

When it was known, by the arrival of the Marquis de Lafayette in Philadelphia, about the middle of May, that a French army of cooperation was coming to the United States, the quick foresight of Arnold pointed out to him the facilities, which this circumstance might afford for the execution of his project. He became the more anxious to have the affair in a proper train. General Schuyler was then shortly to proceed to camp, as one of a committee from Congress to consult and act in matters relating to the army; and Arnold intimated to him, that the command at West Point would be the best suited to his present condition. General Schuyler likewise received a letter from him a few days after his arrival in camp, stating a determination to join the army, and hinting at West Point, but not in such a manner as to betray solicitude; on the contrary, he said that he supposed General Heath would command there, unless some other arrangement should be made agreeable to him.

In the further progress of this design, and upon the same principles of caution, he prevailed on Mr. Robert R. Livingston, then a member of Congress from New York, to write to Washington, and suggest the expediency of appointing him to West Point. Mr. Livingston stated, that he stood high in the estimation of the people of New York, was very popular with the militia, whose services would probably be wanted in the course of the campaign, and was moreover an officer of tried courage and ability. His application had no appearance of being made at the instance of General Arnold, but seemed to flow from Mr. Livingston's own views of the importance of the post and the wisdom of such an appointment.

Thus far every thing had gone on as smoothly as could be desired. The way was fairly open; no undue concern had been shown, and no suspicions excited. Mr. Livingston's letter was followed immediately by Arnold in person, who, under pretence of having private business in Connecticut, passed through the camp on his route, and called at the quarters of the Commander-inchief. By his manner and conversation he seemed to have no special object, but that of paying his respects, and incidentally expressed his desire of joining the army. Washington replied, that the campaign would probably be active, and that, if the condition of his wounds would permit, he should be extremely glad of his services. Arnold then said, that he did not think the state of his wounds such as to allow him to perform a very active part, yet he repeated his wish to be united again with the army. From the beginning to the end of the interview no allusion was made to West Point.

He pursued his journey to Connecticut, and when returning he again called on General Washington. The same subject was introduced, and to the same effect; till Arnold at last intimated, that, as he was disabled to do active duty, the command at West Point would probably be better adapted to him than any other. Washington was a little surprised, that a man so remarkable for energy and action should seek a post, in which there was comparatively so little to be done, and told him frankly, that he could hardly believe the place would suit him, for it would be covered by the main army towards New York, and thus would need only a small garrison. Nothing more was said on the subject. Arnold left the camp, and, after visiting West Point, and examining every part of the works in company with General Howe, who then commanded there, he went back to Philadelphia.

He had no sooner arrived, than he wrote to Congress reminding them that four years' pay was due to him, and requesting the amount of four months' pay to be furnished, with which he might purchase horses and camp-equipage, and thereby be enabled to take the field. Whether Congress ever paid any part of this claim, or took any notice of the request, I know not, as the journals are silent concerning the matter. There is a private letter, however, written by him after he had joined the army, in which he complained, that the public were indebted to him for four years' pay and a considerable sum of money advanced by him in Canada. This was only a repetition of the old grievance; and whatever may have been the extent or justice of his accounts, as represented by himself, it does not appear that they were ever settled.

When it was known to Sir Henry Clinton, that the French troops had arrived at Newport, he formed a plan for attacking them before they could land and fortify themselves. Intelligence of the preparatory movements for this enterprise was instantly communicated to General Washington by his spies in New York. His army was then encamped on the west side of Hudson's River, and he immediately put it in motion to cross the river, with the intention to march down the east side, menace New York in the absence of Sir Henry Clinton, and even attack it, should his force prove sufficient. Arnold reached the camp on the last day of July, while the army was crossing the river at King's Ferry. He first met General Washington riding to see the last division over, and asked if any place had been assigned to him. The General replied, that he was to command the left wing, which was a post of honor and to which he was entitled by his rank. At these words his countenance fell, and he showed a manifest disappointment, but said nothing. The General desired him to go to his quarters, where he would soon meet him, and have further conversation.

On arriving there he ascertained from Colonel Tilghman, one of his aids, that Arnold had been talking with him on the subject, and seemed dissatisfied and uneasy, alleging his inability to perform proper service in the field, or to remain long on horseback, in consequence of his wounded leg, and speaking of West Point as the only post at which he could do justice to himself or be useful to the army. This behavior, so inconsistent with all that was known of the character of the man, struck Washington as strange and unaccountable. He had appointed him to the left wing of the army, because it was a responsible station, requiring an able and efficient officer, and he believed no one could fill it better, especially as there was a prospect of fighting, in which branch of the service Arnold stood preeminent for courage, skill, and good conduct. He could not conceive, therefore, how such a man, in the heat of a stirring campaign, could wish to be confined to a garrison, where there was little scope for his military talents, no room for enterprise, no chance for action; and it would seem all along as if he did not regard the hints about the command at West Point as uttered in sober earnest.

He was now convinced, however, that Arnold really wished for that command; and, as the news of Sir Henry Clinton's having abandoned his plan and debarked his troops quickly arrived, and the further march of the army was thereby rendered unnecessary, and the time of active operations uncertain, he resolved to comply with his request, and to appoint another officer to the place designed for him in the main army. The instructions were dated at Peekskill, on the 3d of August; and Arnold repaired without delay to the Highlands and established his head-quarters at Robinson's House, two or three miles below West Point on the opposite or eastern bank of the river.

Meantime the army retraced its steps, and, crossing the Hudson again at King's Ferry, moved down towards Hackensac, and encamped with the centre at Orangetowm, or Tappan, the left wing resting on the river near Dobbs's Ferry, and the right extending into the country. In this position the army remained for several weeks. The right was commanded by General Greene, the left by Lord Stirling; and the Light Infantry, a body of selected troops consisting of six battalions, was stationed in advance of the main army under the command of the Marquis de Lafayette.

A characteristic incident occurred, when Arnold was about leaving the army to proceed to the Highlands. He went to Lafayette and suggested that, as he had spies in New York employed at his own expense, their intelligence might often reach him more expeditiously by the way of West Point; and requested that the names and address of those spies might be entrusted to him, by which means he should be enabled to facilitate the intercourse. Lafayette objected to the proposal upon the principle, that he was bound in honor and conscience not to reveal the names of his spies to any person; but it was not till after the developement of Arnold's treachery, that he perceived his drift in making the request.