Whenever it is announced that a new work is in preparation, in any way connected with the events of the American Revolution, poor Mr. William B. Reed "gets the fidgets." He throws business, as Macbeth did physic,—to the dogs; he can hardly delay for the introduction of a supply of clean linen into his carpet-bag; but, jumping into the next steamboat or railroad car, he travels post-haste till he has reached the residence of the author, whom he never leaves till he has fully satisfied himself that the projected work is to contain nothing that can detract from the spurious fame of General Reed, or call into question the truth of his attributed reply to the British Commissioners. Poor Mr. Jared Sparks must have had a hard time of annoyance during the long series of years in which he was engaged in preparing for the press his editions of the correspondence of Washington and Franklin. Mr. Bancroft, the author of the History of the United States, is, at present, a particularly prominent object of Mr. Reed's dread. Indefatigable in his researches he cannot have failed to become possessed of some of the evidences of General Reed's "treason," and, stern in his impartiality, it is not to be supposed that he will hesitate to place before the world the character and doings of this miscreant in their true colours. Fearful of this, Mr. Reed has long been engaged in playing the toady to Mr. Bancroft: with what success thus far, remains to be seen: but one thing is certain, that Mr. Bancroft will have placed in his hands, in time to inform him fully for his preparation of that volume of his history in which it will become necessary for him to introduce the name of General Joseph Reed, letters and documents that will establish the "treason" of that worthy beyond a doubt.
The last volume of Mr. Bancroft's work comes down no later than 1784; so that there will probably appear another volume before the period of General Reed's exploits will become the subject of his composition; and of this length of time Mr. Reed will doubtless endeavor to take advantage and make good use. He has just made a formidable demonstration upon Mr. Bancroft. "At the recent literary festival at Cambridge," (to borrow the language of Mr Reed, contained in his late letter to the editors of the National Intelligencer, concerning Mr. Graham, the historian,) Mr. Reed's toadying of Mr. Bancroft was the subject of general comment. Not content with the display of his fulsome civilities on that occasion, Mr. Reed has since forced an opportunity of volunteering to the editors of the National Intelligencer, the letter to which I have just alluded; in which under the pretext of honouring the memory of the late James Graham, Esq., the English author of a History of American Colonies, Mr. Bancroft is plastered with praise. It is thus that Mr. Reed seeks either to impose upon Mr. Bancroft the same "Romance of American History," in which the grandfather is the principal personage, with which he flatters himself he has duped every body else, or to disarm him of any intention of publishing the true history of his connection with the British Commissioners.—And what most of all enhances the meanness of Mr. Reed's conduct is the fact, that, but a year or two since, he was accustomed, at the Whig political meetings of this city, to make Mr. Bancroft (who then held the office of Collector of the Port of Boston, and was a prominent Democrat,) the especial object of his abuse, lavished upon him in the most unmeasured terms.
Such is the man, who, with a thorough knowledge of his grandfather's delinquencies, persists in upholding him to the world as a true and sterling patriot; who, knowing him to be a "Traitor," steeped in "Treason" to the very eyelids, and seeking to barter away his country and its liberties for British gold and office, represents him, unblushingly, as the worthy compeer of Washington, a fellow labourer in the same vineyard, toiling from the rising to the setting of the sun!!! But Mr. Reed's race of eulogy of his ancestors is nearly run. The proof of that man's treachery, long known to the few, will soon be promulgated to the many—to the world. How then, will Mr. William B. Reed feel, when he remembers his itinerant career of laudation; his journeyings by sea and by land, that the trumpet of General Joseph Reed's praises might be sounded? His essays, reviews, addresses, and heaven only knows what all besides? But, above all, how will he then feel when he remembers that, under the stolen name of a naval hero of the Late War, he, this worthy descendant of a Traitor and Tory of the Revolution, once devoted whole weeks to the malignant endeavour to fasten upon a pure and unoffending citizen the very crime of "Treason," of which he knew his own grandfather to have been guilty?
With one or two little anecdotes, (the character of which may somewhat surprise Mr. Reed at the extent and accuracy of my information,) I close for the present. I will select those which Mr. Reed has the best reasons for knowing to be true. During the visit of Lafayette to this country, the father of Mr. William B. Reed, (Mr. Joseph Reed, the late Recorder of Philadelphia,) called on the General at his quarters, in this city, and requested the honour of a private interview. The General (who had been waited upon by Mr. Reed before, in company with the authorities, and other citizens) intimated his numerous and pressing engagements; but Mr. Reed persisting, the interview was granted; one not strictly private, however, there being two other gentlemen present. Mr. Reed informed the General that his object was to obtain from him some revolutionary anecdotes, of which he was convinced he must possess a stock, of his father, the late General Joseph Reed. General Lafayette's countenance immediately fell: he endeavoured politely to evade Mr. Reed's request; at last, as Mr. Reed would take nothing short of downright refusal, the General was, at length, compelled to remark, "I am sorry to say, sir, that I am acquainted with no anecdotes of the late General Reed which it would be pleasant for his son or any of his friends to hear." Mr. R. having bowed himself out of the room in great confusion, the General remarked to one of the gentleman present, in surprise, "This is very strange! Can it be possible that Mr. Reed is ignorant of the opinion which the officers of the Revolution entertained of his father?" And now for another, in which Mr. William B. Reed himself figured. A year or two before the death of Bishop White, he called on the venerable prelate and made a request precisely similar to that with which his father had troubled General Lafayette. Anxious to spare his feelings, the good Bishop endeavoured to change the subject; but, no other mode offering of escaping from the pertinacity of Mr. Reed, he said to him, "Young man, upon the subject of your grandfather, the least that's said, will be soonest mended!"
In my next, I will so far follow the example of McDonough, as to publish a few "Documents," the original of which will be consigned, before long, to Mr. Bancroft.
VALLEY FORGE.
Sept. 23d, 1842.
From the Evening Journal,
Mr. Whitney:—The Jeremiads of the Forum and the Evening Courier shall not deter me from the task which I have deliberately assumed, and which I mean to carry out, of exposing the treachery of the late General Joseph Reed, and the delinquencies of his living grandson, Mr. William Bradford Reed. Why, instead of deprecation, do not these journals give disproof? Is a fellow to be canonized as a saint, because he is no longer of the living? Then let all history be rewritten, and let the puling mawkishness which the hypocrites call manly indignation, reject from the page of history the infamy of a Nero, the cruelty of a Tiberius, and the treason of an Arnold. If it be proper for the entertainment or instruction of posterity, that the vices and crimes of the men of history shall be faithfully detailed, why should not the "treason" of General Reed, contemplated or effected, be spread upon his country's annals? Above all, when he and his descendants have adroitly disguised his villainy with the varnish of incorruptible patriotism, why should the hand which has the power to tear off the mask, and expose the enormity of guilt, be made to fall, self-withheld and self-paralyzed, from the effort? These are questions which admit of but one reply. I shall go on, and in continuation of my developments, I here subjoin another letter from Col. Samuel Smith to the same gentleman to whom was addressed his last.
Baltimore, October 2d, 1832.