The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington

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The Trial and Execution of the Traitor George Washington Page 31

by Charles Rosenberg


  “Any others?”

  “Also Mr. Pierce, a member of their delegation who is pleasant enough and claims to know about border issues, but isn’t in fact very knowledgeable and has little to say. But he looks as if he could break your arm with his bare hands.”

  North returned to his chair, took a sip from the sherry glass that was on the table and decided to let Black know a few more details. “Colonel, we have several spies within the Tower. One is Mrs. Crankshaw.”

  “The woman who cleans and also serves coffee?”

  “Yes. Her son, a soldier, was killed in the war by the rebels. She detests their rebellion.”

  “Are you certain of her loyalty?”

  “Very.” He smiled. “And to assure that, we pay her very well.”

  “There must be many ways to interrupt the escape plot, my Lord, and prosecute those who are planning it.”

  “There are. But I am inclined to let it go forward without trying to kill it in its infancy.”

  “Why?”

  “An attempted escape might aid my own escape—from a political box I am stuck in. Albeit a box I constructed for myself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The box is this. I want to settle the war. I had thought that capturing Washington would make that possible. We would settle the war on terms agreeable to all, in exchange for the Americans getting him back. When it became clear that was not going to happen, I finally had Washington put on trial to increase the pressure.”

  “Isn’t settlement still possible, my Lord?”

  “Only, it seems, if we grant them full independence. While Abbott is the supposed ambassador with plenary authority, Washington has turned out to be the one who really has final authority. And he will not countenance anything short of full independence.”

  “Which your cabinet will not agree to?”

  “Precisely, Colonel. Nor will the King. At least not unless we suffer a huge military defeat. And even then...”

  “Why is it a box, then?”

  “If Washington is executed, he will become a martyr. The resulting rage, both over there and over here, will likely turn the forest fire of the rebellion into a conflagration that will burn down the entire Empire, including Canada and Ireland before it is put out.” He paused. “If it can be put out.”

  Black raised his eyebrows. “Are you certain?”

  “Certain enough. The reports I receive from our agents in the colonies and—” he sighed “—from the King himself, who appears to have his own informants there, is that the rage in America over what we have done is already building. I have also, in these last weeks and months, for the first time talked with many people who have spent considerable time in the colonies, and I have come to understand it better.”

  “I still don’t understand why that is a box.”

  “If he is acquitted or even if we instruct the King to pardon him, we will look weak, and the embarrassment will cause my ministry to fall. I fear that the cabinet that replaces mine will do no better, and the war will just go on with even more ferocity on both sides.”

  “I see. How can I be of help?”

  “An escape could get me out of the box...in certain ways.”

  “Won’t an escape be even more embarrassing than an acquittal or a pardon?”

  “Only if it succeeds.” He smiled. “A failure on the Americans’ part, particularly after the escape was well under way, might be perceived differently.”

  “You want me to foil an escape plot, but not in advance?”

  “You should interpret what I say according to your own lights, Colonel.”

  “My Lord, I would like to ask a question that is perhaps impertinent. If so, please stop me. When you sent me to capture General Washington, did you expect him to be killed in the attempt?”

  North paused for a long time to consider his answer. He could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock as Black waited politely.

  “Let me put it this way, Colonel. I would not have been surprised if both of you had died in the effort. Or at least Washington.”

  “And instead you were surprised that I returned, not to mention with him alive and well.”

  “Yes, and by the way, your well-earned appointment as a brigadier, together with an appropriate medal, should be announced shortly. My apologies for the delay.”

  “No need for an apology, my Lord.”

  “You look troubled, Colonel.”

  “With due respect, my Lord, if Washington is killed while trying to escape, won’t that cause just as large a political ruckus in America as if he were executed?”

  “Perhaps, Colonel. But perhaps not. We will be in control of the facts, and I’m sure we could make it look as if the Americans themselves were somehow responsible. People are killed every day by overturned carriages. We have such bad roads.”

  Black nodded his head, although North could tell he was not convinced.

  “We will let Mrs. Crankshaw know that you will need her cooperation,” North said. “On your way out, Mr. Hartleb will meet with you and tell you some more things we have discovered that make us think there is a plot.”

  “Thank you. I will do my best for you.”

  “I’m sure you will. And, Colonel, it will not be helpful if our conversation about any of this becomes known outside this room.”

  “I will not speak of it to anyone, my Lord. But I will act on it.”

  “Hartleb will meet with you now. Thank you for coming. And for your extraordinary service to your king and to your country.”

  60

  Later, North stood at the library window and watched Abbott descend from his carriage. Abbott was limping, perhaps more so than when he had first arrived in London, now months ago. His assignment had clearly been hard on him, and he must feel on the precipice of failure. North felt a pang of sorrow for him.

  When Abbott was ushered in, North said, “I have tired of meeting in this room. Let us move to the garden.”

  “Of course, my Lord. I didn’t even know 10 Downing had a garden.”

  “It is a place to which I retreat when I want to try to leave the world behind or meet with someone in a setting more conducive to candid conversation. It is unusually warm for a spring day in London, and I hope it will be pleasant.” The truth was, of course, that he used the garden when he wanted something from someone and the casual setting sometimes made it easier.

  When they stepped into the garden, North saw that it had been set up exactly as he had directed—two chairs around a small round table, covered by a white tablecloth. A Wedgwood teapot with matching cups, saucers and plates, all in their trademark blue with white edging, were on the table. Small cakes were out on a large platter.

  After they were seated, and a servant had poured tea for North and offered coffee to Abbott, North said, “With yesterday’s conviction, we are at the end, I think.”

  “When will the sentence be imposed?” Abbott asked.

  “Tomorrow, and the mandatory sentence is a traitor’s death. To be carried out within days.”

  Abbott sipped his coffee. “So I have been told. Is there no chance of the court recommending clemency?”

  “Ambassador, would you expect a military tribunal in America to recommend clemency for General Arnold should he be returned there and court-martialled for treason?”

  “I take your point, my Lord.”

  “And yet, in my experience as First Minister, I have observed that sometimes, when things seem at their nadir, there is an opportunity to find solutions that have eluded people before that.”

  “You refer here to the pressure of an imminent execution?”

  “Yes. There is an advantage for both of us from the threat of that, and I have a proposal for you.”

  Abbott put down his coffee cup, leaned back in his chair and said, “I am liste
ning.”

  “We have worked out almost everything. Your Congress making your laws and passing your taxes, the western border running to the Mississippi, the withdrawal of British troops, your pledge not to invade Canada, trade, fisheries and so forth. The list of things agreed is very long.”

  “Yes, everything except the one thing.”

  “Precisely. My proposal is this. Both sides will sign an agreement that confirms our accord on all of the other issues, but ignores the issue of independence.”

  Abbott was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “What would that mean?”

  “That Parliament would not assert any sovereignty over you, or try to control what happens in your country in any way or insist that symbols of sovereignty appear on your money or your postage or on any building. The governors’ palaces might remain standing, but there would be no one appointed to occupy them.”

  “Would that be put in writing anywhere?”

  “No. It would be an unwritten, oral side agreement, at least for the moment.”

  “And what would be expected on our end?”

  “You would not assert your independence, at least formally.”

  “What of our Declaration of Independence?”

  “It would remain, but it is not, to my understanding, a legal document. It doesn’t set up a government.”

  “Would we be able to appoint ambassadors to other countries?”

  “You could send people to other countries, as you have done during the rebellion, but you would call them something else. At least for a few years.”

  “Could you persuade the Parliament of this?”

  “I believe so.”

  “What of the King?”

  “I can persuade him, as well.”

  “With what leverage?”

  “I will threaten to resign if he does not agree. He intensely dislikes those who might replace me.”

  Abbott picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee. Then a second sip.

  North recognized it as a technique he had used himself. Drink to delay while you gather your thoughts about you.

  Abbott put his cup down and said, “There would be many, many things to ignore, my Lord. Perhaps too many. But I would be glad to put the proposal to my delegation if it will delay His Excellency’s execution.”

  “I would suggest you first put it to General Washington himself since he is the one, let us admit, with the final authority here. And the one with the most at stake.”

  “I will. But I have two requests.”

  “What are they?”

  “First, I want to delay the imposition of sentence.”

  “That may be difficult. The judges are very much in charge of when that takes place. They do not like to delay very long after conviction. So sentence will be imposed tomorrow. But I can delay the carrying out of the sentence for as long as we need.”

  “By what means?”

  “The judges announced they are considering whether to recommend clemency to the Crown. They are not apolitical in matters like this, and they will no doubt see the dangers in killing the hero of what you call the American Revolution. I suspect no one of them wants his name associated with that.”

  “Will the King agree?”

  “A pardon or reduction of sentence is done in the name of the King, but he expects—and follows—guidance from the government. As he would here, I am sure. It might take us a while to decide what is to be done.”

  “I see.”

  “What is your second request?”

  “It is paltry. General Washington wants to have a bust of himself done for his wife. Something to remember him by. He has never had one done.”

  “If we fail in our endeavour, there will hardly be enough time for him to sit for a sculptor. It takes many sittings to ensure the sculptor can render a good likeness in clay, then cast it. If we succeed, there will be plenty of time for that. So for right now I will have to say no and deny Mrs. Washington the pleasure of receiving the bust.”

  “But, my Lord, there is a solution. Are you acquainted with the name Patience Lovell Wright?”

  “The American artist here in London who sculpts in coloured wax?”

  “Yes.”

  North sighed. “I know of her. She is infamous for pursuing famous people as subjects of her art, even if they wish to have nothing to do with her.”

  “She wants to do a head of Washington.”

  North kept himself, barely, from saying out loud that Wright could perhaps just be patient for a few days and obtain Washington’s actual head. Instead, he said, “Even she would not have time to do a proper bust.”

  “She has come to see me, my Lord, and told me that she has already prepared one from drawings of him she has seen. She claims it needs only a day’s sitting to complete.”

  “Very well, I will give consent for her to see him. For one day only. You may choose the day. If we fail to reach agreement and he is to be executed, she must complete what she is doing by two days before the scheduled execution. Because he will be moved then from the Tower to a different place. And he may be moved even before a date for execution is set.”

  “I have heard it said, my Lord, that General Washington often does not make up his mind about momentous things until the very last moment. Moving him the day before the execution—or at all—may make it even less likely he will agree to what you propose.”

  “I will give that consideration. If he is executed, do you plan to stay to watch the execution?”

  “No. I could not bear it. But do you plan to watch? Even if you don’t drop the noose around his neck yourself, you will be the hangman. That is how you will be remembered.”

  He had a point, but it was not one North wanted to reply to. Instead, he said, “My office has caused to be issued, as you requested, a laissez-passer for each member of your delegation to leave the country.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I have also granted permission, as you requested, for a French civilian ship to come into Portsmouth to transport you to France.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.” Abbott rose from his chair. “And thank you for the coffee and the cakes. I will do what I can to persuade General Washington to at least consider your plan. I think it is a good one if it is left amorphous enough. I do fear the details if we are forced to delve into them.”

  “There is one more thing, Mr. Abbott.”

  “What is that?”

  “I have reason to believe that the physician, Mr. Forecastle, is not a physician at all, but a member of General Washington’s Commander-in-Chief Guard.”

  Abbott’s head snapped back in apparent shock, and he said, “I was not aware of that.”

  North could not tell whether Abbott had truly been surprised or not and said, “Whether you were aware or not aware, I must warn you against any attempt at rescue. It will be met with lethal force.”

  “I am not aware Mr. Forecastle is anyone other than General Washington’s physician. Nor do I know of any plot to rescue His Excellency.”

  “I take you at your word.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I must warn you, though, that if such a plot is attempted, you and your delegation will not be protected by any imagined immunity based on your contention that you are diplomats. You will all be locked up and tried for sedition.”

  “I understand your position,” Abbott said. “But I am offended that you think I, as a credentialled Ambassador, would try to evade the judgement of a lawful court here, no matter how barbaric I think your law in this area might be.” He got up and left with only perfunctory words of goodbye.

  North was quite pleased with himself. Letting Abbott know the government suspected that an escape plot was being hatched ought to accelerate it and bring it into the open, so that Black could act.

  61

 
The very next day—the day after the trial—Abbott learned from Hobhouse that the court had sent notice that Washington would not be sentenced immediately, as had been expected. The delay might be as much as a week. That kind of delay, Hobhouse had said, was “unprecedented” in his experience and added, “Something must be going on.”

  Abbott knew, of course, what the something was. He and Lord North had met again briefly and agreed that they would make one last attempt to bridge the divide between the Americans and the British on the independence issue, using North’s suggestion of simply putting the issue of independence to the side for the time being. The negotiations, which they expected to take days, would be held at the palace. North was of the view that the setting would impress on the participants the importance of what they were trying to achieve and might lead to the agreement that had eluded them.

  The negotiations were attended by Abbott’s entire delegation, save Forecastle, as well as by North himself, two other members of his cabinet and several undersecretaries. The discussions were civil, but difficult. It turned out that there were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of ways in which each side would have to agree to do something or not do something, to assert something or not assert something, if the question of independence were to be put to the side and saved for another day.

  Hovering over the entire gathering, though, was the understanding that Washington himself would end up with the final say on the matter.

  At the end of the second day of negotiations—they always finished their sessions in time for afternoon tea—things seemed to be progressing in a heartening way. For one, they had worked their way through a list of dos and don’ts, which included what images would appear on money in the colonies during what they had come to call the cooling-down period. Flowers, trees, farm animals, crops and Greek gods unrelated to warfare had all been proposed. The fact that it was being called the cooling-down period was, of course, a recognition that at some point in the future, the issue would have to be faced again.

  Towards evening, Abbott took a chair to the government guest house, found Forecastle and invited him to go for a walk. He had put off confronting Forecastle, but the time had come. As they walked along, Abbott said, “Mr. Forecastle, quite a while ago you were seen talking with Mrs. Crankshaw on the street in what the person who observed you thought was a suspicious manner. My apologies for being blunt, but what were you discussing?”

 

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