CHAPTER IV
I
Week after week sped by, summer ripened into fall, and fall faded intowinter. All was monotony: the bleak winter season, the shorter days, thelonger evenings, the city settling down into a period of seclusion andsocial inaction. There would be little of gayety this year. No foreignvisitors would be entertained by the townsfolk. There would be noMischienza to look forward to. It would be a lonely winter for thefashionable element, with no solemn functions, with no weekly dancingassemblies, with no amateur theatricals to rehearse. Indeed were it notfor the approaching marriage of Peggy Shippen to the Military Governor,Philadelphia would languish for want of zest and excitement.
The wedding took place at the home of the bride on Fourth Street. Theelite of the city, for the most part Tories, were in attendance. Mrs.Anne Willing Morris, Mrs. Bingham--all the leaders were there. So wereMarjorie, John Anderson, Stephen, the Chews and Miss Franks from NewYork. The reception was brilliant, eclipsing anything of its kind in thehistory of the social life of the city, for Mrs. Shippen had vowed thatthe affair would establish her definitely and for all time the leader ofthe fashionable set of the town.
The center of attraction was of course Peggy; and she carried herselfwell, enduring the trying ordeal with grace and composure. And if onewere to judge by the number and the quality of the gifts which loadeddown one whole room, or by the throng which filled the house tooverflowing, or by the motley crowd which surged without, impatient forone last look at the bride as she stepped into the splendid coach, amore popular couple was never united in matrimony. It was a great dayfor all concerned, and none was more happy nor more radiant than Peggyas she sat back in the coach and looked into the face of her husband andsighed with that contentment and complacency which one experiences inthe possession of a priceless gem.
Their homecoming, after the brief honeymoon, was delightful. No longerwould they live in the great slate roof house on Second Street at thecorner of Norris Alley, but in the more elegant old country seat inFairmount, on the Schuylkill,--Mount Pleasant. Since Arnold hadpurchased this great estate and settled it immediately upon his bride,subject of course to the mortgage, its furnishings and its appointmentswere of her own choice and taste.
It rose majestically before them on a bluff overlooking the river, acourtly pile of colonial Georgian architecture whose balustraded andhipped roof seemed to rear itself above the neighboring woodland, so asto command a magnificent broad view of the Schuylkill River and valleyfor miles around.
"There! See, General! Isn't it heavenly?"
She could not conceal her joy. Arnold looked and smiled graciously withevident satisfaction at the quiet homelike aspect of the place.
Peggy was on the stone landing almost as soon as she emerged from thecoach,--eager to peep inside, anxious to sit at last in her own home.Although she had already seen all that there was to see, and had spentmany days previous to the marriage in arranging and planning theinterior so as to have all in readiness for their return on this day,still she seemed to manifest a newer and a livelier joy, so pleasant andso perfect did all appeal.
"Oh, General! Isn't this just delicious?" And she threw her arms aroundhis neck to give him a generous hug.
"Are you happy now?" he questioned.
"Perfectly. Come let us sit and enjoy it."
She went to the big chair and began to rock energetically; but only fora minute, for she spied in the corner of the room the great sofa, andwith a sudden movement threw herself on that. She was like a small boywith a host of toys about him, anxious to play with all at the sametime, and trying to give to each the same undivided attention. Themassive candelabra on the table attracted her, so she turned herattention to that, fixing one of its candles as she neared it. Finally,a small water color of her father, which hung on the wall a little toone side, appealed to her as needing adjustment. She paused to regardthe profile as she straightened it.
The General observed her from the large chair into which he had flunghimself to rest after the journey, following her with his eyes as sheflitted about the great drawing-room. For the moment there was no objectin that space to determine the angle of his vision, save Peggy, no otherobjective reality to convey any trace of an image to his imagination butthat of his wife. She was the center, the sum-total of all his thoughts,the vivid and appreciable good that regulated his emotions, thatcontrolled his impulses. And the confident assurance that she washappy, reflected from her very countenance, emphasized by her everygesture as she hurried here and there about the room in joyouscontemplation of the divers objects that delighted her fancy, reanimatedhim with a rapture of ecstasy which he thought for the moment impossibleto corporeal beings. The mere pleasure of beholding her supremely happywas for him a source of whole-souled bliss, illimitable and ineffable.
"Would you care to dine now?" she asked of him as she approached hischair and leaned for support on its arms. "I'll ask Cynthia to makeready."
"Yes, if you will. That last stage of the trip was exhausting."
And so these two with all the world in their possession, in each other'scompany, partook of their first meal together in their own dining-room,in their own private home.
II
"'Thou hast it now,--king, Cawdor, Glamis, all----'" remarked Arnold tohis wife as they made their way from the dining-room into the spacioushallway that ran through the house.
"Yet it was not foully played," replied Peggy. "The tourney was fair."
"I had thought of losing you."
"Did you but read my heart aright at our first meeting, you might haveconsoled yourself otherwise."
"It was the fear of my letter; the apprehension of its producing acontrary effect that furnished my misgiving. I trembled over the consentof your parents."
"Dost know, too, that my mother favored the match from the start? Intruth she gave me every encouragement, perhaps awakened my soul to theflame."
"No matter. We are in the morning of our bliss; its sun is about toremain fixed. Wish for a cloudless sky."
They were now in the great drawing-room which ran the full depth of thebuilding, with windows looking both east and west. In the middle of thegreat side wall lodged a full-throated fireplace above which roseimposingly an elaborately wrought overmantel, whose central panel wasdevoid of any ornamentation. The door frames with their heavily moldedpediments, the cornices, pilasters, doortrims and woodwork rich inelaboration of detail were all distinctive Georgian, tempered, however,with much dignified restraint and consummate good taste.
"We can thank the privateer for this. Still it was a fair profit andwisely expended, wiser to my mind than the methods of Robert Morris. Atany rate it is the more satisfactory."
"He has made excellent profits."
"Nevertheless, he has lost as many as an hundred and fifty vessels.These have affected his earnings greatly. Were he not so generous to anungrateful people, a great part of his loss might now have beenretrieved."
"I have heard it said, too, that he alone has provided the sinews of therevolt," said Peggy.
"Unquestionably. On one occasion, at a time of great want, I rememberone of his vessels arrived with a cargo of stores and clothing, whosewhole contents were given to Washington without any remunerationwhatsoever. And you, yourself, remember that during the winter at ValleyForge, just about the time Howe was evacuating the city, when therewere no cartridges in the army but those in the men's boxes, it was hewho rose to the emergency by giving all the lead ballast of his favoriteprivateer. He has made money, but he has lost a vast amount. I mademoney, too, just before I bought this house. And I have lost money."
"And have been cheated of more."
"Yes. Cheated. More generosity from my people! I paid the sailors theirshare of the prize money of the British sloop that they as members ofthe crew had captured, that is, with the help of two other privateerswhich came to their assistance. The court allowed the claims of therival vessels but denied mine. I had counted upon that money but foundmyself suddenly de
prived of it. Now they are charging me with havingillegally bought up the lawsuit."
He was seated now and lay back in his chair with his disabled limbpropped upon a stool before him.
"They continue to say horrid things about you. I wish you were done withthem," Peggy remarked.
He removed his finely powdered periwig and ran his heavy fingers throughhis dark hair.
"I treat such aspersions with the contempt their pettiness deserves. Iam still Military Governor of Philadelphia and as such am beholden to noone save Washington. The people have given me nothing and I have nothingto return save bitter memories."
"I wish we were away from here!" she sighed.
"Margaret!" He never called her Peggy. He disliked it. "Are you nothappy in this home which I have provided for you?"
His eyes opened full.
"It isn't that," she replied, "I am afraid of Reed."
"Reed? He is powerless. He is president of the City Council which underEnglish law is, in time of peace, the superior governing body of thepeople. But this is war, and he must take second place. I despise him."
Peggy looked up inquiringly.
"Suppose that the worst should happen?" she said.
"But--how--what can happen?" he repeated.
"Some great calamity."
"How--what do you mean?" he asked.
"If you should be removed, say, or transferred to some less importantpost?"
A thought flashed into his mind.
"Further humiliated?"
"Yes. What then?"
"Why,--I don't know. I had thought of no possible contingency. I wishedfor a command in the Navy and wrote to Washington to that effect; butnothing came of it. I suppose my increasing interest in domestic affairsin the city, as well as my attentions to you, caused me to discontinuethe application. Then again, I thought I was fitted for the kind of lifeled by my friend Schuyler in New York and had hoped to obtain a grant ofland in the West where I might lead a retired life as a good citizen."
"I would die in such a place. The Indians would massacre us. Imagine mehunting buffalo in Ohio!"
Her face wore a sardonic smile. It was plain to be seen that she was ina flippant mood.
"Have you given the matter a thought? Tell me," he questioned.
"No! I could not begin to think."
"Are you not happy?"
"Happiness springs not from a large fortune, and is often obtained whenoften unexpected. It is neither within us nor without us and onlyevident to us by the deliverance from evil."
He glanced sharply. There was fire in his eye.
"I know of what you are thinking. You are disturbed by these persistentrumors about me."
She gave a little laugh, a chuckle, in a hopeless manner.
"Yes, I am. Go on." She answered mechanically and fell back in herchair.
"You need not be disturbed. They are groundless, I tell you. Simplyengendered by spite. And I blame partly the Papist Whigs. Damn 'em."
"It isn't that alone."
"That is some of it. The origin of the hostility to me was the closingof the shops for a week under an order direct from Washington himself,and a resolution of the Congress. Yet I was blamed. The next incidentpounced upon by them was my use of the government wagons in movingstores. As you know I had this done to revictual and supply the army.But I permitted the empty wagons to bring back stores from the directionof New York and was charged with being in communication with the enemy."
"Which would be more praiseworthy."
He paid no attention to her remark but continued:
"I was honest in supposing the goods to be bonafide household goodsbelonging to non-combatants. As a matter of fact some of the decorationsat our wedding were obtained in this manner. What followed? A publiccomplaint."
"I know."
"Then that scheming interloper Matlack! You know of him?"
"I think so."
"You've heard of his father, of course!"
"No."
"The Secretary to Reed, the President of the Council? Timothy Matlack?His social aspirations were somewhat curtailed by my interest in publicaffairs. He has borne me in mind and evidently intends my ruin."
"In that he differs not from many other so-called friends."
"I did all in my power to soothe his ruffled feelings in a long,considerate letter in answer to his note of grievance. Only later Ilearned that it was his son whose haughty nature had been offended."
"You were no party to the offense. In fact you knew naught of it untilthe episode had been concluded."
"True, but Franks had taken part in it, and Franks was my headaide-de-camp. It was trivial. He wanted a barber and sent young Matlackwho was doing sentry duty at the door to fetch one. Naturally I defendedhis action in my letter of reply."
"I tell you, they do not want you here. Can't you sense that? Else thesecharges would never have been uttered. They are mere pretexts. They areweary of you and desire your resignation."
She talked rapidly, violently. Her face assumed a stern expression.
He did not reply but peered into the distance.
"The 'American Fabius', I suppose, is still watching General Clinton,"Peggy continued.
"He has thrown a cordon about him at New York. With a sufficient forcehe might take him."
"Never! The Americans never were a match for His Majesty's well-trainedtroops. The longer the struggle endures the sooner this will belearned."
"Time is with us, dear. The mother country knows this."
She looked at him. It was astonishing to her that he could be sotransparent and so unaware of it. Really he was not clever.
"Why do you say that?" she asked. "Every day our lot grows worse. Thetroops perish from misery; they are badly armed; scarcely clothed; theyneed bread and many of them are without arms. Our lands lie fallow. Theeducation of a generation has been neglected, a loss that can never berepaired. Our youths have been dragged by the thousands from theiroccupations and harvested by the war; and those who return have losttheir vigor or have been mutilated for life."
"You are partly right," he mused. "America lost the opportunity forreconciliation immediately after my victory at Saratoga. Since then, asyou say, the land has become a waste of widows, beggars and orphans.Then came the French Alliance, a sacrifice of the great interests, aswell as the religion of this country to the biased views of a proud,ancient, crafty and priest-ridden nation. I always thought this adefensive war until the French joined in the combination. Now I lookwith disfavor upon this peril to our dominion, this enemy of our faith."
Peggy became interested immediately. She sat straight up in her chair.
"You never spoke these thoughts to me before!" she exclaimed.
"I feared it. You are a Tory, at least at heart. And I knew that youwould only encourage me in my manner of thought. God knows, I am unableto decide between my perplexities."
"You know how General Monk decided?"
"My God! He was a traitor!"
"He restored Charles," insisted Peggy.
"And sold his soul."
"For the Duchy of Albemarle."
"Good God! girl, don't talk thoughts like that, I--I---- He has endureduniversal execration. It was an act of perfidy." He scowled fiercely. Hewas in a rage.
Peggy smiled. She did not press the subject, but allowed it to drop.
"My! How dark it has become!" she exclaimed.
She struck a light and touched the wicks of the candles.
III
Dizzy was the eminence to which General Arnold and his girl brideascended! On a sudden they found themselves on the highest pinnacle--theone of military fame--with Gates, Lee, Wayne, Greene and many otherdistinguished generals at their feet, the other of social prestige theobserved of all observers! For a time Arnold's caprices had been lookedupon as only the flash and outbreak of that fiery mind which haddirected his military genius. He attacked religion; yet in religiouscircles his name was mentioned with fondness. He lampooned Congress; yethe w
as condoned by the Whigs.
Then came the reaction. Society flew into a rage with its idol. He hadbeen worshiped with an irrational idolatry. He was censured with anirrational fury. In the first place the position in which he was placedas Military Governor required the exercise of the utmost patience andtact. Neither of these qualities did he possess. The order to close theshops caused discontent. People became incensed at the sight of adictator interfering with their private life. There was thrust upon themin his person the very type that they were striving to expel. His mannerof action suddenly became obnoxious.
What was merely criticism in respect to his public life, became aviolent passion respecting the affairs of his private life. There weremany rumors of his intercourse with the Tory element. Brilliantfunctions were arranged, it was said, with the sole view of gainingtheir friendship and good will. He spent the major portion of his freetime in their company, nay more, he had taken to wife the most notoriousof their number. Small wonder was it that his sentiments on the questionof the war were undergoing a marked alteration. The thirst of thepolitical Whigs for vengeance was insatiable.
Then he had repaired to a mansion, the most elegant seat inPennsylvania, where he entertained in a style and after a manner far inexcess of his means. A coach and four he maintained with the greatestostentation. His livery and appointments were extravagant and whollyunbecoming an officer of a country so poor and struggling. He drove totown in the company of his wife and paid every attention to thearistocratic leaders of the city. He disdained the lot of the commoncitizen. Even his head aide-de-camp had submitted a free man to theindignity of fetching a barber to shave him, an act countenanced by theGeneral himself in a letter of reply to the boy's father.
His entertainments were frequent, altogether too frequent for theconservative instincts of the community. Upon the arrival of the FrenchAmbassador M. Gerard, a grand banquet was tendered him, after which hewas entertained with his entire suite for several days at MountPleasant. Foreigners were seldom absent from the mansion and members ofCongress, the relatives of his wife, the titled gentry of Europe weretreated with marked and lavish attention. The visit of GeneralWashington was an event memorable for its display and magnificence, theball alone at the City Tavern entailing a vast expenditure. With Madeiraselling at eight hundred pounds a pipe and other things in proportion tothe depreciation of the paper currency, the wonder was often expressedas to the source of so much munificence.
It was known that General Arnold was not a man of wealth. Whateverfortune he had amassed had been obtained mainly through the profitsaccrued from his privateering ventures. The great estate which he nowpossessed, had been bought only a few months previous to his marriageout of the profits of one of his vessels, just then returning to port.He was continually in debt, and ruin was imminent. Yet he was living atthe rate of five thousand pounds a year. Whence then came the funds?
He had married a Tory wife, and presently it was discovered that amonghis bosom friends, his table companions, were to be found the enemies ofAmerica. Rumors began to whisper with nods and shrugs and shakings ofthe head that his wife was imparting profitable information to theenemy, and betimes the question was raised as to who was profiting most.What was more natural than that she who had been the toasted and laudedfavorite of the British Officers when they were in possession of thecity, should now be in communication with them in far-away New York!The seeds of suspicion and ill-will were sedulously sown--and the yieldwas bound to be luxuriant.
So the days rolled into weeks, and the weeks clustered into months, andthe months fell into the procession of the seasons, and in the meantime,Arnold and his wife passed their time in conjugal felicity and regalsplendor. Their affection was constant, tender and uninterrupted; andthis alone afforded him consolation and happiness; for his countrymenwere in a bad mood with him. His wife, his home, his estate now definedthe extent of his ambition. The world had turned against him.
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