The Book of Bastards

by Brian Thornton

  BASTARD ON THE MAKE

  Not only was the “Father of his Country” a horny bastard trying to score with his best friend's wife, he was also perpetually on the lookout to “improve his situation.” Speculating in land, romancing girls from wealthy families, and eventually marrying the richest widow in the colony, George Washington was a man on the make before he was the “Man on Horseback.”

  Did Sally return Washington's affection? We know that they spent much time together, and often outside of the company of her much older husband. The Fair-faxes were the most frequent visitors to Mount Vernon after Washington's marriage. The would-be lovers exchanged letters for the remainder of their lives, even after Washington married and after Sally and her husband moved to England in 1773.

  In a much later letter, Washington told Sally how much her company had meant to him. He wrote of how he had “never been able to eradicate from my mind those happy moments, the happiest in my life, which I have enjoyed in your company.” The fact of the matter is that whether or not Washington took liberties with Sally, he eventually moved on, married Martha (one of the wealthiest women in Virginia), and by all accounts had a good marriage. Far from being the stolid, “marble statue” that history so often makes of our leaders, Washington was naturally fiery, passionate, and given to great flights of fancy.

  So go figure, George Washington, the marble man on horseback, the boring guy on the dollar bill, likely had an affair with his hot young neighbor, and went on to “marry up.” Talk about an overachiever! Who knew the guy had so much in common with Bill Clinton?

  7

  BENEDICT ARNOLD

  America's First Traitor (1741–1801)

  “Let me die in this old uniform in which I fought my battles. May God forgive me for ever having put on another.”

  — Benedict Arnold's last words

  To this day the name of Benedict Arnold is synonymous with the word “traitor.” But who was Benedict Arnold really? Was he as big a bastard as popular history makes him out to be?

  Truth be told, Benedict Arnold nearly died in the Battle of Saratoga in 1777. Had he perished on the field that day, he would have come down to us second only to George Washington in esteem. He would likely have been held in wide regard as the greatest battlefield commander on either side of the Revolutionary War.

  That said, he was still unquestionably a bastard.

  A prosperous Connecticut merchant and experienced sea captain during peacetime, by 1777 Arnold was also a seasoned battlefield commander. Twice-wounded veteran of the seizure of Fort Ticonderoga, the assault on Quebec, the naval battle on Lake Champlain, and a host of other engagements, and George Washington's favorite general.

  But even before turning traitor Arnold was a bastard. He possessed a knack for making enemies, and was often accused of corruption and profiteering. He could, at least, foist the blame on his prewar business success operating as a smuggler evading British import duties. But Arnold was also touchy about his honor, had a short fuse, and had fought a number of duels. And as he was never reimbursed for the fortune he spent outfitting troops, Arnold wanted to make back his investment and then some.

  By the time Arnold was in command of the American fortifications at West Point in 1780, he was more desperate for new sources of income than ever. He used his young, free-spending wife's loyalist family connections to set up a meeting at which he agreed to turn over West Point to the British. Only the capture of the British officer with whom Arnold had met foiled the plot.

  A GLORIOUS BASTARD

  In October 1777, the American forces under General Horatio Gates had bottled up the main British force under command of General “Gentleman Johnny” Burgoyne within a day's ride from Albany. On October 7, a pitched battle began at Bemis Heights, near Saratoga, New York. When Arnold saw that the second American charge against the British was turning into a rout, he borrowed a horse, rallied the retreating troops, and led them on a heroic bayonet charge into the teeth of murderous British musket fire. Arnold's horse was shot out from under him at the end of the battle. Both the musket ball and the fall shattered his left leg. A controversial decision to set the bone rather than amputate left Arnold with a left leg that was two inches shorter than his right one.

  Arnold escaped to the British, who gave him a general's commission and a cash bonus of $6,000. Although he commanded some British troops later in the Revolution, as a turncoat he was hardly welcomed with open arms. After the British withdrawal in 1783 Arnold left the United States, never to return.

  So while it's true that Arnold was heroic, it is also important to remember his capacity for resentment, his thin skin, and his eye for a way to make a buck.

  When he was being taken to the rear after his leg was shattered by that musket ball at Saratoga, Arnold is rumored to have remarked, “Better it had been in the chest.” If he actually said it, he never said anything more correct during his entire life.

  8

  HORATIO GATES

  The “Conway Cabal” and the Plot to “Get Rid” of George Washington (ca. 1727–1806)

  “Beware that your Northern laurels do not change to Southern willows.”

  — General Charles Lee to General Horatio Gates after his victory at Saratoga

  Ever wonder what might have happened to our country if George Washington got himself replaced as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army? Well it almost happened. And the bastard responsible was British-born Horatio Gates.

  At first Gates hardly seemed like an opportunist. When the war broke out in 1775, the British Army veteran left his Virginia plantation. He offered his services to George Washington and was made made adjutant general of the Continental Army.

  As the top staff officer, Gates had made good use of his talents for organization and discipline learned during his twenty years in the British Army.

  Two years later in 1777, British General John Burgoyne's entire army surrendered to Gates after the Battle of Saratoga. He simply took much of the credit owed his subordinate, Benedict Arnold, for their success against the British.

  Where Gates was riding high, the fortunes of the Continental Army's Commander-in-Chief George Washington were at a low ebb. Washington lost popularity in Congress, having spent most of 1777 and 1778 fighting a series of losing battles all over New Jersey while trying to pry the British Army out of Philadelphia.

  Gates saw the window of opportunity and leaped. He had his despicable aide James Wilkinson begin a whisper campaign suggesting that Washington had lost the confidence of both Congress and his own troops. The plot culminated with several letters written by an Irish-born French Army veteran officer named Thomas Conway. Each complained about Washington's perceived shortcomings and implied that Gates stood ready to take over as an able commander-in-chief. The letters were forwarded to certain members of Congress to provoke a decision against Washington and for Gates. The Conway Cabal “plot,” such as it was, didn't amount to much.

  Conway resigned in disgrace once his letters and their contents were made public. One of Washington's staff officers challenged Conway to a duel, and shot him for his trouble. Conway survived to apologize to Washington and return to France.

  There was one more moment in history when it looked as if Gates might succeed Washington. He had maneuvered his Congressional allies into naming him to Washington's staff by 1783, when hostilities with the British were largely over. The Continental Army was camped at Newburgh, New York, at the time, keeping an eye on the British in New York City. Restless and owed years of back pay, many of the officers of the army began to mutter about how they ought to march down to where Congress was in session and insist on receiving their pay. When Washington got wind of this, he made it clear that he would not allow the army to influence civilian political decisions in that manner.

  At that point several of Gates's aides began to circulate more whispers among the disaffected officers. They pushed the notion that if Gates replaced Washington, the former would be open to airing their compl
aints much more forcibly with the Congress. And thus the so-called “Newburgh Conspiracy” was born.

  In the end the Newburgh Conspiracy had no more success than the Conway Cabal did. Washington crashed a meeting chaired by Gates, gave his celebrated “Newburgh Address,” which moved most of those assembled to tears, and effectively broke up the plot before it had a chance to gain any traction among the troops. And as a result the republic was spared a military coup at the beginning of its existence.

  Horatio Gates: bastard.

  9

  ALEXANDER HAMILTON

  The Bastard on the Ten-Dollar Bill (ca. 1755–1804)

  “Hamilton is really a colossus … without numbers, he is a host unto himself.”

  — Thomas Jefferson

  History is rife with examples of intelligent, able government servants brought low by scandals in their private lives. In the case of Alexander Hamilton, a brief scandal in his personal life likely cost him the presidency.

  By the age of twenty Hamilton was serving as General George Washington's aide de camp with the rank of colonel in the Continental Army. By the age of thirty he was helping found New York's first bank. He was one of the driving personalities behind the Constitutional Convention, and served as America's first secretary of the treasury, both before he turned thirty-five. The “bastard from Nevis” was a classic overachiever.

  Like most overachievers, Hamilton was constantly courting favorable attention from those around him. This was particularly true where attractive women were concerned. Happily married with four children, Hamilton was thirty-six and the second-most powerful man in the country when he first encountered a prostitute named Maria Reynolds in 1791.

  Married to a con man and pimp named James Reynolds, Reynolds sought out Hamilton at his Philadelphia home with quite a story. She had contacted Hamilton, she said, because he was a fellow New Yorker who might assist her. Maria said she was in desperate straits after her louse of a husband abandoned her.

  Because she was a young, beautiful fellow New Yorker, Hamilton listened. He agreed to help and sent her back to her boarding house, having agreed to help her. Later that same day he took her some money. In his own words, “Some conversation ensued from which it was quickly apparent that other than pecuniary compensation would be acceptable.” Luckily for us, Hamilton wrote an extensive account of his trysts with this young woman in a remarkable pamphlet with a longwinded title; today it's known widely as the “Reynolds Pamphlet.”

  For the next year Hamilton carried on with Maria Reynolds. Her husband likely had a hand in planning the whole thing and quickly began blackmailing Hamilton. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing came out.

  A BORN BASTARD

  Born poor and illegitimate in 1755 on tiny Nevis Island in the West Indies, Hamilton personified the “Great American Success Story.” He always felt the need to prove himself, so he reinforced his brilliance with industry. His neighbors were so impressed that they took up a collection in order to send the eighteen-year-old assistant clerk to New York for a proper education. He left the West Indies in 1773, just in time to get involved in “the troubles” that later grew into the American Revolution.

  When James Reynolds got caught in an unrelated swindle, he offered to give up a much bigger criminal if spared jail time. Of course, Hamilton was Reynolds's get-out-of-jail-free card. The resulting scandal quickly came to the attention of Democratic Republican Party boss (and future president) James Monroe. Monroe was a political rival of Hamilton's, so he approached Hamilton about his affair. Hamilton admitted it all while flatly denying any professional or political wrongdoing.

  Monroe believed him, agreed not to make the matter public, and suggested Hamilton end things.

  Hamilton did so. This was in 1792. Within a year Maria Reynolds had successfully sued for divorce from her husband; James Reynolds subsequently disappears from history. Hamilton resigned from Washington's government in 1795, and resumed his law practice in New York City.

  Hamilton's publication of the Reynolds Pamphlet was his final attempt to “clear the air” on his affair. It blew up in his face. He never held political office again and died in an 1804 duel — that had nothing to do with the Reynolds affair — with Maria Reynolds's divorce lawyer (and fellow bastard) Aaron Burr.

  10

  JOHN RUTLEDGE

  JWI (Judging While Insane) (1739–1800)

  “The Rutledges have been at their wits end how to conduct themselves in the delicate state of John's affairs.”

  — Anonymous South Carolina politician

  John Rutledge sacrificed much for his country during its infancy. He was a Revolutionary War hero; the scion of a distinguished South Carolina family; a distinguished judge; a Founding Father; and one of the framers of the United States Constitution. Today, however, we're not likely to remember him for his contributions. Rather he's most likely to be remembered because he was kicked off the U.S. Supreme Court for being crazy.

  Rutledge was a successful lawyer when the American Revolution broke out. He was so highly esteemed in his native South Carolina that he served as its “president” under an interim constitution and then as its first governor once a more permanent state constitution was in place. Rutledge even led the resistance against the British invasion in 1780. He helped oversee the defense of Charleston Harbor and organized the city's evacuation once it fell into British hands. British soldiers destroyed much of Rutledge's property during the resulting occupation; he was never fully compensated for that loss.

  Rutledge's political successes and personal losses continued to pile up even after the Revolution ended. He signed the U.S. Constitution and served as chief justice of the South Carolina Court of Common Pleas and Sessions. But during the ensuing years Rutledge attempted unsuccessfully to recoup the financial losses he'd suffered during the Revolution. In 1792 his wife died. The blow to Rutledge, combined with the strain of trying to right his family's finances, pushed him to the brink emotionally. Clearly suffering from what we recognize today as clinical depression, Rutledge's behavior became by turns manic and morose.

  In spite of the whispers about Rutledge's increasingly erratic behavior, he still enjoyed a formidable reputation as one of the country's leading jurists. President Washington selected Rutledge to succeed John Jay as chief justice when Jay was elected governor of New York in 1795. Because the Senate was in recess as the change was made, they were denied the opportunity to assess the validity of rumors about Rutledge's mental state before he was confirmed. Their decision would have to wait until the Senate reconvened. Rutledge took the oath of office as chief justice on July 1, 1795, rumors of his stability be damned.

  Rutledge's appointment to the Supreme Court had an immediate and unforgettable impact. Before leaving the Supreme Court, John Jay had negotiated a treaty with the British as a follow-up to the one that ended the American Revolution in 1783. The “Jay Treaty” ignored issues that the Southern states considered delicate and vital. Many statesmen expressed their dissent with the terms of the treaty, but Rutledge went nuts over it.

  In what one historian later famously called “an unfortunate display of oratorical excess,” Rutledge brutally condemned the treaty in a speech in Charleston soon after his appointment. At one point he even said “that he had rather the President should die than sign that puerile instrument.” Later in the same speech Rutledge made it clear that he “preferred war to adoption of it.” He gave his critics all of the ammunition they needed to add to Rutledge's growing list of faults. Rampant speculation that Rutledge had been drunk when he made the speech began soon afterwards, making public the fact that he was often “in his cups.”

  Rutledge's speech rocked the boat so badly that it wrecked his chances of Senate confirmation. No one in their right mind would approve of a chief justice who ranted so carelessly, much less one that did it drunk. On December 15, the Senate voted to reject Rutledge's appointment.

  A full-blown nervous breakdown and a January suicide att
empt by drowning followed. Rutledge was never the same after the Senate rejected his nomination. He died in 1800, a thoroughly depressed and broken man. He is the only chief justice of the United States to be removed from office for any reason.

  11

  WILLIAM BLOUNT

  Trying to Sell the Southwest to the Spanish (1749–1800)

  “I was much embarrassed between my regard for Governor Blount and what might possibly be my duty with respect to the letter.”

  — James Carey after receiving proof of William Blount's bastardry

  Did you know that one of the signers of the United States Constitution was actually the first United States Senator to be expelled from the Senate? It's true! The name of the rogue who won this dubious honor for even more dubious behavior? William Blount.

  Blount was born in 1749 and raised in North Carolina. A trained lawyer, he served as a paymaster for various units of the state militia and the Continental Army. He never saw combat, but he earned the status (and the paycheck) of an officer.

  Blount went on to represent North Carolina at the Constitutional Convention from 1787 to 1788. He was one of three delegates from North Carolina to sign the completed document. Before the ink was dry on the Constitution Blount had pulled up stakes and quit North Carolina for Tennessee. In 1790 President Washington appointed him governor of the new “Southwest Territory.” The new job gave him control of a sparsely settled, booming region that included parts of what are now the states of Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi.