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.