The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington

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The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington Page 14

by Charles Rosenberg


  With that, he walked up the steps to the church and pressed himself into a dark niche near the large wooden door, which was closed. Hartleb quickly joined him. North could see the street, but no one could see them. Or so he hoped.

  “Might not someone come through this door, Mr. Hartleb?” he asked.

  “Unlikely this time of night, my Lord. The vespers were already two hours ago.” He pointed to a hand-lettered sign on the door setting out the church’s schedule.

  “Do you think my disguise adequate?” North asked.

  Hartleb looked him over. “The hood, drawn tight like that, covers most of your face, and the rough cloth of the coat perhaps covers your status.”

  North looked down at his shoes. “My boots do not look right.”

  Hartleb looked down at his own. “Nor mine. But it is not something I thought of. Perhaps we could...”

  He was interrupted by North. “Look! People are beginning to gather along the roadway. I can’t see the bridge, but I can hear the babble of people on it.”

  “Word must have spread, sir. Perhaps this will not be an unruly group, though. I see nothing in their hands.”

  “In the riots, the ruffians were very good at concealing things until they wanted to use them. That’s why so many constables were injured until we finally called in the army.”

  “I was not in your service at the time.”

  “More’s the pity.”

  “Oh, wait, sir. That one man there—” he pointed “—is carrying a small bag at his side, which bulges suspiciously.”

  “I hope it is offal and not rocks. But look, here they come.”

  They watched as the marines came down from the bridge onto the roadway in front of the church. North pressed his back against the stone wall, the better to protect himself from being seen. As he waited, he realized that he had not felt so alive in years.

  “There he is,” Hartleb said, pointing. “On the horse, in the middle of the formation!”

  “I had heard he was tall,” North said, “but he sits even taller in the saddle than I had expected.”

  As the procession began to pass directly in front of them, the man with the bag darted in amongst the marines, followed by two more men. They reached into their bags and began throwing something at Washington.

  “Whatever are they throwing?” North asked.

  “Flower petals, I think.”

  “Flower petals? Where would they get those this time of year?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps they were dried in the summer and saved.”

  Suddenly, the crowd began to shout, but the sound was initially muffled. Then it came clear.

  “Long live George Washington!” And then it was repeated over and over, louder each time, a chant taken up all and down the road, where more people waited.

  Without warning, the door to the church opened and a silver-haired man in clerical garb stepped out. “Excuse me for startling you,” he said. “I came out to see what all the noise is about. Do you know who the man on the horse is?”

  “Yes,” North said. “It’s General George Washington.”

  “Really? That is remarkable. It seems the crowd is pleased to see him. Do you know what brings him here?”

  North hesitated. “No, not really.”

  The man had been looking away from them, towards the procession. As it moved out of sight, he turned fully towards them and said, “It’s a cold night. May I offer you gentlemen a hot tea?”

  “We are well situated, thank you,” Hartleb said.

  “Let me at least introduce myself,” he said. “I’m Cedric Smith, the rector of this church. And who might you gentlemen be?”

  He glanced at their faces, stared a few seconds at North’s, then bolted back in surprise. “Your Lordship, excuse me. I did not expect you here.”

  “These are unusual times. I hope I can prevail upon you to keep our presence here to yourself. It is something of a state secret.”

  “Of course. Of course. But I must ask, was that man on the horse really George Washington?”

  “Yes, we believe so.”

  “I will not ask whether you know how he got here or what he is doing here, but it would be a great blessing if it might help bring an end to the war.”

  “It could do that,” North said. “It could indeed.”

  “If you will excuse me, Excellency, I have work to do inside.” He made a slight bow, opened the door and disappeared back into the interior.

  North looked at Hartleb. “So much for the efficacy of the disguise.”

  They both laughed.

  As they headed back to the carriage, North said, “Mr. Hartleb, what do you think the chances are of his keeping our presence here a secret, whether a state secret or just an ordinary secret?”

  “About the same as cows reading Greek.”

  “You are probably right. Is that a phrase they used at Oxford back when you were there?”

  “Yes, and more colourful expressions, too.”

  North smiled. “Perhaps you will tell them to me sometime.”

  “I could never—”

  “Don’t worry. I will not ask. But in any case, who do you think all those people are who are cheering Washington?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “It seems likely to me they are American rebels who are secreted here in London. How many Americans are in this city, do you think?”

  “Quite a few, but they are almost all Loyalists who have fled the colonies. And certainly no Loyalist is a friend to Washington. They regard him as someone who has destroyed their erstwhile comfortable lives.”

  They had reached the carriage, and the coachman held the open door for them. As he stepped inside, he said to Hartleb, “Somehow, the rebels got wind of this and came out to greet their leader. I don’t know how they found out, but it must be so.”

  “That is certainly possible, my Lord.”

  “I can see no other explanation.”

  27

  North returned to his apartment, which consisted of seven well-appointed rooms on the second floor of Number 10, climbed into bed and fell into a deep, if troubled, sleep.

  The next morning, when he returned to the state floor, where the cabinet room was located, he spied Hartleb, already at work at his desk.

  “Good morning, Excellency. I trust you are well today.”

  “Very, thank you, Mr. Hartleb. And you?”

  “The same, sir.”

  “Very good. Let’s discuss my schedule for the day.”

  “Colonel Black is already here, as you requested. He is waiting in the anteroom.”

  “Please show him in.”

  Black entered a few minutes later. North rose from his chair and went to greet him, extending his hand and, when taken, pumping Black’s hand vigorously.

  “Colonel Black, my heartfelt congratulations on having accomplished your mission. I must tell you...”

  “...that you didn’t think I would succeed?”

  North smiled. “No, but I knew that if anyone could succeed, you could. You were selected from amongst our best young officers. I also knew, of course, that no matter how competent and courageous you are, your mission involved great risks.”

  Black laughed. “There were a few, Excellency, here and there.”

  “I’m sure there were. This afternoon, I’d like you to tell my staff the details. Tomorrow, I’d like also for you to attend a cabinet meeting to describe your activities to the ministers. My secretary will let you know the time of the meeting.”

  “Of course.”

  “My military adviser, Lord Germain, will be present tomorrow. I assume you know who he is.”

  “Yes, the Secretary of State for the American colonies.”

  “Exactly. As you may also know, up till now, I have put him
directly in charge of our armies in America, and our forces at sea, as well. He will no doubt be unhappy with me because I kept him in the dark about your mission.”

  “He was not aware?”

  “No. And that is his complaint. That I went outside his chain of command.”

  “I’m not currently attached to any army unit that is in America, nor to the sea forces that are there.”

  “The very point I have made to him. Nonetheless, he is an ambitious man, and he thinks that the fact that this was done without his participation reflects poorly on him. He wants to sit where I sit, you see.”

  “Is there some particular way I should comport myself, then, to avoid giving offence?”

  “No, I simply want you to be aware that if he flies into a rage, it is nothing you have done or said.”

  “Understood, my Lord.”

  “Good. Now let me ask you, how was the trip from Portsmouth to the Tower?”

  “It went well enough, especially at the beginning, when we were near Portsmouth. Washington rode a horse, closely guarded, and the marines put a strong perimeter in place. When we got close to London, though, word had somehow got out and there were crowds along the way.”

  “I have heard they were unruly.”

  “I cannot say for sure, my Lord. We were inside three ranks of marines. I could hear people shouting, but I could hardly see them.”

  “Were the crowds friendly or hostile?”

  “Largely friendly, so far as I could hear, but perhaps as much from curiosity as anything else.”

  “Is he now safely in the Tower?” North asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Very good. In a few weeks, we will be having a ceremony here at 10 Downing for you.”

  “A ceremony, sir?”

  “Yes, for your promotion to Brigadier General. It is not something I can do on my own, but I will strongly urge it upon the Promotions Board and I’m sure the King will support it with enthusiasm. Which reminds me that the King would enjoy an audience with you.”

  “I’m honoured, sir, both at the promotion if it occurs and at the opportunity to meet the sovereign. But it was enough for me just to serve my king and my country.”

  “You have honoured and aided your king and country more than you know, Colonel. What are your plans now?”

  “I hope to obtain a leave of perhaps a month to return to Bibury, where my sister and her children still live. I have not seen them in almost a year.”

  “That sounds a wonderful plan. I wonder, though, if you might consider doing one more favour for your country before you take your leave, which I will plan to extend to two months.”

  “What is that, sir?”

  “Move into the Tower. I am concerned it is somehow not secure for Washington there.”

  Black realized that Lord North was not really making a request of him. He expected him simply to agree to do it. Nonetheless, Black said, “If I may be so bold, my Lord, why is he being held there in lieu of a more secure place?”

  “The King wants him there. For what I might call political reasons. It is as simple as that.”

  “I will accept the assignment and hope to do my best.”

  28

  Abbott sailed to England aboard the civilian sloop Lily Rose, captained by Roger Chittum and flying a white flag. It was a relatively smooth voyage. Other than bumping his head several times on a bulkhead—they were designed for shorter men—he suffered no ill effects from the voyage.

  On the way, they were boarded three times—once two days off the coast of Philadelphia, where the ships of the British blockade seemed thick in the water, once in mid-ocean and once as they made landfall on the southwest tip of Ireland. On the first two occasions, the officer in charge of the boarding party had briefly inspected their papers, including the commission appointing Abbott as Ambassador Plenipotentiary. Each time, the officer had handed the papers back, saluted Captain Chittum, wished them fair sailing and departed.

  The third time was different. The officer in charge of the boarding party had been openly hostile and had insisted Abbott and Captain Chittum board his longboat and return with him to his own ship, HMS Duke, a three-decker 98-gun ship of the line. Abbott had never before laid eyes on such a huge vessel.

  Once aboard Duke, the British captain and two of his officers had interrogated them for more than two hours, before finally acknowledging that perhaps they were who they said they were and permitting them to return to their own ship. But the Captain of Duke had icily instructed Captain Chittum that the Lily Rose was to remain in place for twenty-four hours to give the British ship time to make port and advise the authorities of the imminent arrival of the American ship. So Captain Chittum sailed Lily Rose back and forth for a day off the Irish coast. Even in winter, Abbott found it beautiful.

  Four weeks earlier, Charles Thompson had been present when Huntington had given Abbott his ambassadorial instructions. Whether to record them for the records of the Congress in his job as Secretary, or for some other reason, Abbott was unsure.

  After Huntington had left the room, Thompson said, “I know you have been told your powers are limited and that you may do this, but not that.”

  “True.”

  “My advice? Promise what you need to get Washington back. From what I have heard in the Congress these many months, day in and day out, we are currently losing the war. With Washington to lead us, we can still win it. Without him, I fear we will not.”

  “What if I promise something beyond my authority?”

  “I’d not worry about it. Just get Washington released as part of the agreement you make while they wait for confirmation from Congress—which you will assure them is only a formality. It will all work out.”

  “Why would they let him go before the agreement is confirmed?”

  “He can be paroled, if we are lucky, to some neutral country, and promise on his honour to come back if the agreement is not confirmed. We’ll then spirit him out of that country.”

  “You’re certain, then, that this strategy will work?”

  “If the reports the Congress has received of what is being said in Parliament are correct. North, who initiated the intolerable taxes and restrictions visited upon us, has more recently become desperate to end the war and get on with the task of defeating France. He simply has yet to convince the King.”

  “Do you know if the King can be convinced?”

  “I would have no way of knowing. But in the end the decision belongs to the government.”

  “If the King opposes the deal?”

  He shrugged. “He can abdicate.”

  “I am still concerned about exceeding my authority.”

  “If you have to exceed your authority, you can use Dr. Franklin as your model. He has never paid much attention to such boundaries.”

  “I know him, of course, but only as a sometime client, and then only briefly. Do you know him well?”

  “Fairly well, yes, although we have not always been political friends.”

  “I will try to emulate him, sir. But I have a question of you.”

  “Of course, Colonel. What is it?”

  “What will you be doing on this side of the ocean to respond to this outrage? Surely, the Congress and the generals will not just sit here and think that sending me is a solution.”

  “We are recalling to Philadelphia all the delegates who have already left to spend Christmas at home. For those who are many days away, we have sent fast horsemen.” He paused and laughed. “From the look on your face, Colonel, you don’t think that is adequate.”

  “I don’t. Is there anything else?”

  “Many of our best generals are in the Carolinas, fighting Cornwallis and his troops. But we still have considerable forces near New York, and we are talking now with the generals who are nearby about doing something audacious.” He
paused. “As soon as a temporary commander-in-chief is named.”

  “Who might that be?”

  “By talent and success it should be—likely will be—Major General Nathanael Greene. But he is on his way to North Carolina to take command of our southern army. He will need to be recalled, and that will take weeks.”

  Abbott was incredulous. “So the audacious thing you think of may be delayed by weeks?”

  “It might. Sometimes this war grinds exceedingly slow.”

  “Even so, what kind of thing might that be to retaliate for this outrage?”

  Thompson stood there for a moment, saying nothing.

  “Do you not trust me, Mr. Thompson?”

  Thompson laughed again. “We do. Indeed we are entrusting you with perhaps the most important thing, getting General Washington back here. It’s just that we have no plan as yet. We are awaiting the arrival of several men and generals important to anything we might do. They should be here within days. I assume that some kind of new military thrust will be the result.”

  “I see. Perhaps you will find a way to let me know.”

  “We will write to you regularly, and we will assume that you will send us your reports regularly. But you will be many weeks away and in the midst of the enemy. It would be hard to assure the secrecy of what we might tell you or what you might tell us. You may need to go for long periods without any further formal instructions from us. And your communicating back to us may end up being just as general in nature.”

  “You could send a person to me with the instructions in his head.”

  “Of course, and we may. Is there anything else you wish to ask, Colonel?”

  “No. Is there anything else you might want to tell me?”

  “Only that when you see His Excellency please give him my regards and my best wishes for his good health and his prompt return to lead us on to victory.”

  “I will.”

  “Godspeed, Colonel.”

  * * *

  Almost five weeks after he had said goodbye to Philadelphia, Abbott stood on the deck of the Lily Rose, pondering his conversation with Thompson, which by then seemed long ago. He watched as the harbour pilot guided them slowly into port, the long ocean voyage finally behind him. As a foreign ship, they had first been quarantined off the port for five days before being permitted into the harbour, so Abbott fully expected to be met by someone from the government.

 

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