Nearly a fortnight passed during which the enemy did nothing and the States little. As of July 13 Washington had to write: “It cannot be too much lamented that our preparations still are so greatly behindhand. Not a thousand men that I have heard of, have yet joined the Army. . . .” The pettiness of accession made a jest of the plan, nearing completion, for an attack on New York—made, indeed, an embarrassment of reports that the French fleet was off the American coast. The next day a messenger brought Washington a dispatch of July 11 from Heath: “. . . yesterday afternoon the long expected fleet of our illustrious ally appeared off [Newport]. . . , the signals were all made and the fleet standing in to the harbor. . . .”
The dispatch from Rhode Island prompted Washington to complete his outline of operations against New York and entrust Lafayette to carry it and official greetings to the commanders of the allies at Newport. For the attack on New York the General began active preparation. Then adversity trod the heels of hope: Admiral Thomas Graves was said to have arrived at Sandy Hook on the thirteenth with six ships of the line to reenforce Admiral Arbuthnot, who was credited by intelligence reports with seven large ships, three frigates and a sloop. For comparison, by July 18, a dispatch from the General in command of the French troops, Comte de Rochambeau, informed Washington that he had slightly more than five thousand men and that his naval colleague, the Chevalier de Ternay, had eight ships of the line, two frigates and two bomb-galliots. By the simplest calculation, the combined forces of Arbuthnot and Graves were far more powerful than Ternay’s eight. Washington flattered America’s allies when he said that the French were “rather inferior” to their adversary, but he had instant encouragement: Other French war vessels might come from the West Indies. Rochambeau assured him a second division of French ships, with more infantry, soon would arrive in America, but the prospect of early attack on New York undeniably was dimmed.
The fates seemed to be making sport of him. A new rebuff came quickly: A British force of fifteen or sixteen ships appeared off Newport, as if to establish a blockade and intercept the French second division. Within three days more, there was news that transports in large number were proceeding eastward through Long Island Sound to assail the French on Rhode Island. If the troops on these vessels were as numerous as reports indicated, a renewed opportunity presented itself of making a demonstration against New York and perhaps of attacking the city’s defences; but the Quartermaster service, feeble for months, now was crippled and disorganized, because Greene had resigned as head of that department. With some difficulty Washington and John Mathews of the committee at Headquarters prevailed on Greene to continue temporarily on duty, and to their relief they found that while the machinery creaked and rumbled, the service did not collapse entirely.
The troops under the Commander-in-Chief continued their advance across the Hudson until news came at the beginning of August that Clinton’s transports were returning to New York with the regiments still aboard, a movement the American commander attributed to his demonstration against the city. As soon as he was sure the British vessels were headed westward on Long Island Sound, he directed that the Army return to the Jersey side of the Hudson.
The disappointments did not exhaust Washington’s patience or destroy his cheerfulness. He looked confidently for the shift in naval superiority that Admiral Ternay assured him the French King was determined to establish. The United States must do their part, conserve the little they had and organize to strike with all their might when the French squadron arrived. Greene would be available to assist him. His resignation as Quartermaster General had been accepted with no bar on service in the line. He could be assigned to command the right wing, but the man Washington desired to head the left wing, Arnold, said his wounded leg was not strong enough for so active a command. In accordance with his wishes he was assigned to the defence of West Point. None of his juniors was named to command the left wing, because the return of Clinton’s fleet made an immediate order of battle unnecessary.
After New York received its full garrison again, was there any hope of striking a blow before the second division of the French fleet arrived? The British showed no initiative; the only American enterprise of any magnitude was an unsuccessful attack by Wayne July 21 on a blockhouse near Bull’s Ferry. Had opportunity of achieving any larger result offered itself, Washington’s acceptance would have been at the greatest risk, because all the darkest apprehensions of the failure of supply by the States were being realized. Commissary Ephraim Blaine was almost frantic; a general forage had to be authorized. Soon the only device for keeping the Army from starving was to move the camp, eat up everything in reach and then go into another district and strip it.
The misery of the men was matched by the discontent and weakened organization of the officers’ corps. Maxwell resigned; Enoch Poor died; various others were cherishing grievances or debating bitterly with themselves a choice of duty. The new Quartermaster General, Timothy Pickering, failed to report promptly for field orders. By August 15 Washington had received slightly more than six thousand recruits of the 16,500 the States had been asked to supply for the main Army; a large body of Pennsylvania militia, estimated by the Commissary General at 4500, was moving forward to share in the projected attack on the British, but Washington could not feed these reenforcements. He had to order the men turned back and dismissed or encamped where provisions were abundant. He was compelled to warn the Delegates: “. . . If something satisfactory be not done, the Army . . . must either cease to exist at the end of the campaign, or it will exhibit an example of more virtue, fortitude, self denial, and perseverance than has perhaps ever yet been paralleled in the history of human enthusiasm.”
Within a week, food was so scarce that Washington had to move the Army to the vicinity of Fort Lee, on the North River, in order to impress the few days’ food in that area. As the march began, he had still another discouragement, so stern that it was almost a blow in the face. He learned that the useful committee at Headquarters, who had aided him in many ways, had been discharged by Congress on the ground that it had exceeded its authority. With his unflinching acceptance of civil authority, Washington made no protest, even when he attested to Congress the value of the committee’s service, but he had lost advocates who had learned thoroughly the distress of the Army and could interpret it to the States.
On the evening of August 25 Washington received a dispatch of the twentieth from Rochambeau who reported the arrival at Boston of the French frigate Alliance. She brought much-needed arms and powder; but when she left L’Orient, the second division of the French fleet was blockaded at Brest by English squadrons. The division, with the best of fortune, could not be expected in America until October. Economy and common-sense dictated the undoing of much Washington laboriously had undertaken: he dismissed the militia, ordered the Army to return to the vicinity of Hackensack, prepared his thin battalions for a possible British advance, and warned Arnold to assemble at West Point all scattered contingents to meet a probable attack on the highlands.
While the Army was tramping to the Hackensack, rumors reached Headquarters that a disaster had befallen Gates, of whose operations in the Carolinas, Washington had heard little. On September 4 came news that Gates had suffered total defeat in a battle with Cornwallis’s troops on August 16, about eight miles from Camden, South Carolina. Early accounts indicated that Gates’s force had been destroyed, that he had fled 180 miles before he even could file a report, and that, because of the disaster, Virginia was exposed to invasion from the south. Washington had no comment, but he lost no time in directing a new regiment from Maryland south instead of to the main Army.
A council of war assembled on the sixth to consider plans and a new and mystifying development: the British fleet had disappeared from the vicinity of Newport August 29 and had not been heard of subsequently. The puzzled council could recommend nothing better than the suspension of the attack on New York until the arrival of the French second division. Further dispatch of r
eenforcements to the south likewise should await events. Washington’s opinion was that the British would detach more troops to Virginia or to North Carolina. America’s reliance should be on slow recovery in the South and on the creation there of a Continental force of about six thousand. If the main operations of the British should develop in the South, the whole or a part of the troops under Washington might be moved to that region.
On these and related questions Washington wished to consult the French commanders, with whom he long had desired to confer, and he now arranged a meeting at Hartford on September 20; but while he was preparing carefully for this, another calamity threatened. On the fourteenth Gen. David Forman wrote from Freehold, New Jersey: “I am this minute informed that Admiral Rodney with twelve sail of the line and four frigates are arrived off Sandy Hook from the West Indies.” Instead of having the help of additional French ships to offset British strength, Washington had now to contend with a hostile superiority greater than ever, perhaps unchallengeably greater.
With regard for these developments, Washington drew up a memorandum of the subjects to be discussed, gave orders to guide the action of Greene during his absence, and on September 17, in the company of staff-officers and attendents, rode towards King’s Ferry and stopped for the night at the home of Joshua Hett Smith. At Smith’s Washington met Arnold. That officer had written his chief numerous letters after reaching West Point and had received hearty commendation for the spirit in which he had been discharging his duties. Now the hero of the northern campaigns wished the judgment of the Commander-in-Chief on a matter of interest. Beverley Robinson, an old-time friend of Washington’s and a leading supporter of the British cause in New York, had sent Arnold a letter requesting a secret interview with him. Arnold wished to know whether he should consent to see Robinson. Washington’s answer was instant and positive: By no means should Arnold do such a thing! If Robinson had any permissible private business to transact, he should address himself to the civil authorities of New York.
When Arnold transmitted a reply of this nature to Robinson, the matter ended. Perhaps this was to the satisfaction of outpost officers, because they were annoyed by frequent flags of truce. Col. Elisha Sheldon, for example, had been the go-between for reports from spies and recently had almost got himself into trouble because of a letter of one John Anderson, a New Yorker, who sought to enter the lines on a matter “of so private a nature that the public on neither side can be injured by it.” Sheldon sent this paper to Arnold but he made a report of it to Washington, who inquired how the letter had come into Sheldon’s hands. The Colonel explained that the communication had been brought by flag of truce. Fortunately for Sheldon, Arnold previously had mentioned the fact that he was opening a new line of intelligence from New York and now confided that Anderson was the man he wished to employ.
Washington proceeded to Hartford, where he had the pleasure of meeting Rochambeau, Ternay and other French officers. Some of these soldiers of King Louis were curious to know what manner of man the leader of the American Revolution was, and most of them were greatly pleased with him. “Enchanted” was the word Claude Blanchard used as he summarized the feelings of those fellow-countrymen who subsequently told him of Washington’s “easy and noble bearing, extensive and correct views and the art of making himself beloved. . . .” Washington, in turn, found the French commanders all he could wish them to be, but he could do little more than give a pleasant personal aspect to a discussion dependent on so many contingencies that neither side could make firm promises. Everything hung on the balance between French and British naval strength, on the time and the extent of help from the Comte de Guichen, French Admiral in the West Indies.
The American leader’s proposals were these: First, if de Guichen arrived by the beginning of October and won a naval victory that would give him entry into New York harbor, the capture of that city should be undertaken. In event allied naval superiority was not obtained until later in the fall, an expedition of at least twelve thousand troops, French and American, should be sent to the Southern States. A second proposal was based on a plan Greene had sketched: The French fleet might proceed to Boston, where it would be secure without the support of land forces, and Rocham-beau’s infantry might march towards the Hudson for cooperation with the Americans in enterprises that would keep the British from making further detachment to the South. Washington’s third project was for a winter campaign in Canada. The first of these three proposals alone met with the favor of Rochambeau. Even in this particular, the French General tactfully made it plain that the King’s fleet and troops were to be kept together and not to be employed contrary to his strict interpretation of his orders. Rochambeau explained that he had instructions to put his troops under Washington personally and under him only; but in the end, Washington concluded that his command of these forces was a flattering fiction.
If Washington could not hope to undertake a general offensive until French naval reenforcements arrived, he must be certain fortifications on the Hudson, and particularly at West Point, were strong enough to discourage attack. Washington wished to see them himself. So, when he left Hartford September 23, with Lafayette, Knox and the members of the staff, he took the upper road, pressed steadily on, and passed Fishkill during the next afternoon. He was continuing towards West Point when he met the Chevalier Luzerne en route to visit Rochambeau. The Minister appealed so earnestly for a conference that Washington turned back to Fishkill, where, no doubt, he traded news from Hartford for Philadelphia gossip.
The next morning, September 25, he was resolved to press straight on to the Headquarters of Arnold. Two officers were assigned to ride ahead and inform Arnold’s household to prepare, if convenient, for a considerable number of hungry guests. Washington followed at a good clip and about 10:30 pulled up at Arnold’s Headquarters, which were in the residence of Beverley Robinson, about two miles southeast of West Point. At the house, one of Arnold’s aides, Maj. David Franks, explained that a short while previously Arnold had received a call to come at once to West Point. He sent his regrets at unavoidable absence. In approximately an hour, he would be back. Such a state of affairs was no welcome for the Commander-in-Chief, but—would the gentlemen excuse it and make themselves comfortable? Washington relieved immediately the embarrassment of Franks. If the Major would order some breakfast, all could be adjusted easily; the visitors intended to cross to the works at West Point and would see Arnold there.
After they had breakfasted the officers were rowed across the Hudson to the defences that towered on the west bank, but something evidently had gone awry. Arnold was not at the landing, nor had he been seen that morning by those who greeted the visitors. Washington concluded that the party would start its inspection and proceed from one work to another until the commander was found. As he made the rounds, Washington encountered shocking conditions of past bad planning and present neglect. Almost every part of the stronghold of the Hudson was decayed, incomplete or inflammable. Repair of the works called for the full service of Arnold’s eighteen hundred militia and of all the artificers he could collect. Strangely enough, very few men were visible as garrison or masons. At each of the forts and redoubts, Washington inquired for Arnold. Nobody had seen him. Washington felt some irritation that Arnold should be negligent in attendance when word of the visit of the Commander-in-Chief had been sent; but as it was important to know the exact condition of the defences, he completed the tour of the place.
It was well past three o’clock when Washington, with vague misgiving started across the river towards Robinson’s house; and it was close to four when the barge tied up at its landing. Arnold had not returned. It was very strange. Washington went to the house and into the room set aside for him. In a few minutes, Hamilton entered and handed Washington a packet that had just been received by Lt. Col. John Jameson of the First Dragoons. Washington opened the bundle and read Jameson’s covering note. This explained that a man who gave the name John Anderson had been caught on the road to New
York. When searched, he was found to have in his stockings papers which Jameson forwarded. The General glanced at them. One was a pass for Anderson, dated September 22. Another was a summary of the Army’s strength, with a report of the troops at West Point and an estimate of the forces needed there. A return of the ordnance was in the packet, as were the arrangements for the disposition of the artillery in event of an alarm. One folio was endorsed: “Remarks on Works at Wt. Point a copy to be transmitted to his Excell’y General Washington”; still another was a copy of the minutes Washington had sent Arnold of the council of war on September 6. In short, Washington had in his hands a dossier of the most confidential papers concerning the garrison and defences of West Point and the plans of the Army. This was startling enough. The appalling fact was that two of these papers were in Arnold’s handwriting. Anderson’s pass was signed by the General.
Hamilton had still another document for Washington, a second letter from Jameson. The officer explained that a letter for Washington had been given him by the man who called himself Anderson and that he was forwarding this. It was an amazing communication: the arrested individual was not John Anderson but John André, a Major and Adjutant General in the British Army. He confessed that he had left the man-of-war, Vulture, in Hudson River, “to meet upon ground not within posts of either army, a person who was to give me intelligence.” Against previous stipulations, André said, he had been conveyed “within one of your posts,” whence he had been refused transit back to the vessel and forced to put on civilian dress and start to New York by land. Near Tarrytown he had been captured by some volunteers. “Thus,” he continued, “as I have the honor to relate was I betrayed (being Adjutant General of the British Army) into the vile condition of an enemy in disguise within your posts.”
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