From Cain to Catiline, the world hath seen
Her traitors—vaunted votaries of crime—
Caligula and Nero sat alone
Upon the pinnacle of vice sublime;
But they were moved by hate, or wish to climb
The rugged steeps of Fame, in letters bold
To write their names upon the scroll of time;
Therefore their crimes some virtue did enfold—
But, Arnold! thine had none; 'twas all for sordid gold.
Estelle Anna Lewis.
In consequence of a bad wound received in his leg while gallantly fighting at Saratoga (and which was yet unhealed), Arnold was not fit for active service when the British evacuated Philadelphia in the spring of 1778. Washington, desirous of keeping him employed, appointed him military governor of that city, in command of a small corps of soldiers. Fond of show, and feeling the importance of his station, Arnold adopted a style of living incompatible with his resources and the character of a republican. He made the fine old mansion of William Penn his residence; kept a coach-and-four; gave splendid soirées and banquets, and charmed the gayer portion of Philadelphia society with his princely displays. His station, and the splendor of his equipage, captivated the daughter of Edward Shippen, a leading loyalist, and afterward Chief Justice of the State. Her beauty and accomplishments won the heart of the widower of forty. She had bloomed but eighteen summers, and admirers of every degree coveted her smiles; yet she gave her hand to Arnold, and they were married. Stanch Whigs shook their heads in distrust, and the equally stanch loyalists were gratified. To the former, this union augured of evil; to the latter, it had promises of hope. Both were right interpreters.
Arnold's extravagance soon brought importunate creditors to his door. Rather than retrench his expenses, he procured money by a system of fraud and prostitution of his official power. The city being under martial law, his power was supreme. He forbade shopkeepers selling certain articles, and then, through agents, he trafficked in those very articles, and sold them at enormous profits. The people were incensed, and a deputation went before the President and Council of Pennsylvania, and preferred charges against him. These were laid before Congress, and that body referred the whole matter to Washington, to be adjudicated by a military tribunal.
After a delay of more than a year Arnold was tried, and found guilty of two of four charges preferred against him. The court pronounced the mildest sentence in its power—a mere reprimand by the Commander-in-chief. Washington performed the duty with the greatest delicacy. "Our profession," he said, "is the chastest of all. Even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our finest achievements. The least inadvertence may rob us of the public favor, so hard to be acquired. I reprimand you for having forgotten that, in proportion as you had rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have been guarded and temperate in your deportment toward your fellow-citizens. Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have placed you on the list of our most valued commanders. I will myself furnish you, as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of regaining the esteem of your country."
What punishment could have been lighter! Yet Arnold was greatly irritated. He had anticipated a full acquittal, and a triumphant vindication of his honor. Even this slight punishment deeply wounded his pride, and instead of receiving it with the generous feelings of true honor and dignity, he resented it as a meditated wrong. The rank weed of treason was already growing luxuriantly in his heart, for he had been for nine months in secret correspondence with the enemy in New York; now it bloomed, and its fruit expanded under the genial heat of intense hatred, fed by mortified pride, foiled ambition, the pressure of embarrassments, the want of employment, intercourse with loyalists, and a sense of public injustice.
When the great fête, called the Mischianza was given in Philadelphia in honor of General Sir William Howe, on his departure from America in the spring of 1778, Captain John Andrè was the most active and talented officer engaged in its preparation. He was a wit, a poet, and a painter. Thwarted in an engagement of marriage with the charming Honora Sneyd, by the unwise scruples of her father, on account of the suitor's youth and obscurity, Andrè placed in his bosom the miniature of his idol, painted by his own hands, joined the army, and came to America to seek, in the excitement of the camp, an alleviation of sufferings inflicted by disappointed love. He landed in Canada; was captured at St. John's on the Sorel, where he saved the picture of Honora by concealing it in his mouth; was taken to Pennsylvania; was exchanged, and finally rejoined the army in New York.
JOHN ANDRÈ.
