“I again congratulate you on this great and glorious event, to which you have contributed more than any other person....
“I shall improve my first opportunity of writing to you, and rely on being honored with a continuance of your correspondence and friendship. Wishing that you ever may be happy and fortunate, I am, etc.,
“Silas Deane.”
The misgivings which had haunted the American commissioner seemed entirely to disappear during his voyage, so confident was he of being able to justify himself before Congress, and if ever commissioner had the right to look forward with joy to setting foot again on his native land, that commissioner was Deane. When he had gone out two years previously he had left his country poor, unrecognized and not yet decided to declare its independence. By his unhesitating and indefatigable zeal, aided by that of Beaumarchais, supplies and officers of priceless value had been sent to its aid, arriving at the moment when they were most needed.
Mistakes had been made, it is true, but those mistakes were all of a nature that no man of honor need blush to acknowledge. Far from having enriched himself during those two years of service, he had spent not only all his own private savings, but had been obliged to draw very heavily upon the generosity of his friend, since all the stores brought with him from America had fallen into the hands of the English. In the words of Parton, “He was returning now the acknowledged minister of a victorious nation, the honored guest of a French Admiral, bringing back a powerful fleet (twelve line of battleships and four frigates) to aid his country, and accompanied by an ambassador of the King of France! Well might he write exultingly to the president of Congress, well might he expect a warm welcome and a hasty adjustment of his claims; as the proud French vessel was dropping anchor in Delaware Bay, July 10, 1778, he wrote: ‘I shall embark this afternoon ... and I hope soon to have the honor of presenting my respects to your Excellency and the Honorable Congress in person. . . .’
No reply came to him from Congress. No one paid him the smallest attention. His testimonials were ignored and even the presence of the French fleet had no power to rouse Congress from a stony indifference. He was in despair.
“He had brought with him,” said Parton, “only a hundred pounds, not expecting to be detained in America many weeks. When at last given audience, he told his story to distrustful and estranged employers. All the friends of Arthur Lee, all the ancient foes of France, and a large proportion of the faction who desired to put Horatio Gates into the place of Washington, were disposed to believe the foul calumnies sent over by every ship from Paris.”
As a matter of fact the time of his arrival in Philadelphia was not well suited to a fair consideration of Deane’s claims. The city recently had been evacuated by the British Army. During the occupation, Toryism had been rampant and the state was retaliating with indictments for treason. Disputes over questions of jurisdiction engaged the civil authorities in quarrels with Arnold, the commander of the garrison, who numbered among his sympathizers Silas Deane and the mercantile class.
Arnold, after his brilliant exploits at Saratoga, had seen himself thrust aside at the moment of victory to make way for Gates. Wounded at Saratoga, and burning for revenge, Arnold was already so much disgusted with the Continental Congress that he began seriously to wish to see Great Britain triumph.
Washington had put him in command of the garrison at Philadelphia in June, 1778. The reigning belle of the Quaker City was at that moment Miss Margaret Shippen, “the most beautiful and fascinating woman in America.” She was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, who along with his whole class, was eager for the war to come to an end through a speedy adjustment with Great Britain, whose liberal offers, since the surrender of Burgoyne, seemed more than satisfactory to their moderate patriotism.