by Brad Meltzer
Still, that day, there are once again no direct references to the plot in any official documents.
Yet behind the scenes, and not on any public record, something very important has taken place.
At some point on one of these two days, John Jay, Gouverneur Morris, and Philip Livingston have lined up a session to examine a witness who may know something related to this plot. The examination will be the next morning, Thursday, June 20, at 10:00 a.m.
The witness is William Leary, a foreman from the Ringwood Ironworks iron mill in Goshen, New York. He says he recently chased down some traitors in New York City. Apparently, he’s learned some information that could be relevant to the committee.
That’s not all. Leary is going to bring one of the culprits with him—so the committee can actually examine the traitor.
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When does George Washington first hear about the secret plot?
How does he react when he learns the details?
Based on the available records, there is no precise answer to these questions. Because of Washington’s ironclad insistence on discretion and secrecy regarding anything that involves sensitive intelligence, he doesn’t openly acknowledge or write about the plot until later, when the revelations become more public.
However, we do know that right after Ketcham’s testimony on Monday, June 17, one of the very first instructions for the new secret subcommittee—Jay, Livingston, and Morris—was “to confer with General Washington, relative to certain secret intelligence communicated to this Congress.”
Indeed, one of the reasons for creating a secret committee in the first place was to keep Washington personally and confidentially informed on critical matters such as this.
So, given that Ketcham’s testimony implicates members of Washington’s own Life Guards—and that Washington’s safety is now at risk—it is almost certain that the committee members informed the Commander-in-Chief of the plot within hours, if not minutes, of learning of it themselves.
Still, there is no record of exactly what George Washington is told, or how he responds.
In all probability, Washington learns every detail, and begins to confer in depth with Jay, Livingston, and Morris about how they should pursue an investigation.
However, according to the records, there is evidence that in the two-day period following Ketcham’s testimony Washington also begins taking his own concrete steps in response.
One of Ketcham’s revelations was that the conspiracy may include a plan to destroy the much-traveled King’s Bridge, which connects northern Manhattan to what is now the Bronx. At the time one of only two bridges to and from Manhattan, it is regularly used to transport goods to and from the northeastern colonies. As such, the bridge is critically important to Washington’s army for the movement of troops and supplies. The destruction of King’s Bridge would be disastrous, especially just before or during a major battle.
A day or two after Ketcham’s testimony—on either Tuesday, June 18, or Wednesday, June 19—Washington travels up to King’s Bridge with a detachment of soldiers to personally inspect the fortifications and defenses surrounding the bridge.
Then, on Thursday, June 20, he reports to John Hancock that “I have been up to view the grounds about King’s Bridge,” and that “esteeming it a pass of the utmost importance,” he has ordered additional troops and fortifications to guard and otherwise bolster the defense of the bridge.
Almost certainly, these efforts are a direct response to the revelation of the plot.
But of course, from the Commander-in-Chief’s point of view, the plot is about more than just a military threat. If Ketcham is to be believed, this plot is about the duplicity of his own soldiers. This plot is about betrayal. It’s about treason.
After everything George Washington has been through, with the enormous challenges that lie ahead, how does the revelation truly affect him?
True to form, Washington reveals almost nothing of his emotional reaction, now or in the future. Moreover, the need for absolute secrecy means he probably wouldn’t talk about it even if he wanted to.
Still, there are some ways to glimpse George Washington’s state of mind at this time.
In the two weeks since his return from Philadelphia, every ounce of his energy has been devoted to preparations for the coming British attack on New York—now expected to begin in about a week. Between the state of his army—diminished by sickness, short on arms, short on experienced soldiers—and the inherent difficulty of defending an island city with no navy against such a massive force, the outlook is terrifying. And Washington knows this better than anyone.
The stakes could not be higher. As John Hancock wrote to the New York Provincial Congress the previous week: “Our affairs are hastening to a crisis, and the approaching campaign will in all probability determine forever the fate of America … and I trust every man in the Colony of New York is determined to see it gloriously ended, or to perish in the ruins of it.”
George Washington, of course, is the one who actually bears the extraordinary responsibility. Rarely does Washington overtly evoke religion in his writing, but he sometimes refers to the semispiritual idea of “Providence”—a sense of fate that lies beyond mortal hands. During this particularly fraught period—facing what could be a cataclysmic defeat and utter failure—he makes repeated references to this notion of Providence, as if he has nothing else left.
He writes to his brother: “It is to be hoped that, if our cause is just, as I do most religiously believe it to be, the same Providence which has in many instances appeared for us, will go on to afford its aid.”
And not long before that, to John Adams: “We have nothing, my dear sir, to depend upon, but the protection of a kind Providence and unanimity amongst ourselves.”
It’s at this moment, already under so much pressure, and with the British fleet only a week away, that he learns about a possible plot against him, from within his own army.
This plot is a violation of every code of honor, every notion of duty, every sense of virtue—basically, a violation of every value on which George Washington has tried to build his army.
These are not just any soldiers, these are his Life Guards.
These are the men in whom he placed his greatest trust, the men who were supposed to protect him.
Not only have these Life Guards betrayed their country and their army—they have betrayed him personally. And they have done so exactly when he needs to depend on them the most.
At the time, George Washington doesn’t write about this betrayal, or share his feelings about it with even his closest confidants.
But let’s face it, this had to hurt.
Unfortunately, in the next few days, the pain will only get worse.
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On the morning of Thursday, June 20, the members of the New York Provincial Congress meet as usual at City Hall.
On this morning, however, two congressmen—John Jay and Gouverneur Morris—do not meet with the rest of the group.
Instead, these two convene in a separate room in the building, for a special private examination of new witnesses possibly connected to the conspiracy.§ Only the members of the Committee on Conspiracies will be privy to the testimony, which is to remain top secret and confidential, even from other members of the New York Congress. The only additional person in the room during the examination itself will be a congressional secretary, to transcribe the testimony as the witnesses answer questions.
Jay and Morris will examine two men in succession: William Leary and James Mason, both from Goshen, New York.
How is it that William Leary, the Ringwood iron mill foreman, and James Mason, the part-time-miller-turned-traitor, ended up testifying at City Hall?
The answer isn’t known.
Possibly, Leary approached authorities in Manhattan after his adventure chasing traitors in the city and volunteered that he had information that might be important. Undoubtedly, he would also have named James Mason as a suspect. In th
is case, it would be pure coincidence that Leary happened to come forward a day or two after Isaac Ketcham shared his intelligence from the jail.
Another possibility, and probably more likely, is that after the Ketcham testimony, the Committee on Conspiracies did some investigating behind the scenes that led them to Leary. For example, if they contacted local officials in counties around the city looking for leads, the officials from Orange County may have suggested they interview Leary, who no doubt reported his story to his bosses at the mill, who then probably shared it with the appropriate local authorities.
In any event, on the morning of Thursday, June 20, William Leary, the foreman of the Ringwood mill, sits in a room in City Hall, directly across from John Jay and Gouverneur Morris.
Promptly at ten o’clock, the examination begins.
First, Leary describes the mission he undertook earlier in the month. He had been sent by his boss—the mill owner, Erskine—to travel down to New York City and track down a missing employee named William Benjamin. Benjamin, rumor had it, had fled the mill to join some sort of traitorous scheme of British sympathizers.
Leary describes how, after following the suspect’s trail down to New York City, he successfully tracked down Benjamin at the Manhattan residence of someone by the name of Forbes. He describes how Forbes gave Benjamin a gun to defend himself when Leary entered, and how Leary “took hold of Benjamin and prevented him from using said Pistol.”
Leary further describes how, after he apprehended and delivered Benjamin to nearby soldiers, he encountered another former employee at Ringwood, James Mason, who had also fled the mill in Goshen to join the traitorous scheme.
Leary, by pretending that he himself wanted to join the scheme, met Mason’s cohorts and learned more about this network of men who planned to betray their country. They had all accepted promises of money to “go on board the Man-o-War”—one of the British ships in the harbor—and take up arms against the colonies.
Leary learned that Mason and his companions had been “sworn” or “qualified” to be members of this secret scheme. When Leary asked Mason who had sworn them in, Mason “replied that it was a gentleman employed by the Mayor or Governor of the town.”
As a final note, Leary learned that this group “expected a large body of men to join them from Goshen.”
From William Leary’s testimony several key facts stand out.
First, there is clearly a widespread effort afoot to bribe local citizens to join the enemy. Although Leary’s testimony refers only to recruitment efforts in Goshen, New York, the pattern is consistent with reports they’ve heard from elsewhere.
Second, apparently many of these recruited traitors travel to Manhattan—right under the nose of the Continental army—where they are sworn in some sort of secret ceremony to join the British side.
Third, there is someone named Forbes in Manhattan who has housed and tried to arm at least one of the new recruits.
Fourth, and perhaps most important, someone “employed by the Mayor or Governor”—that would be David Mathews or William Tryon—is swearing in and apparently paying the new recruits.
Here, in this testimony, some of the most important elements of the plot come into focus. Still, there are many outstanding questions. Is this recruitment effort in Goshen connected to the plot revealed by Isaac Ketcham, and involving the Life Guards? Who is really running this scheme in New York City? And what exactly are all these recruits being paid to do?
A congressional secretary has carefully written down every word Leary has spoken. John Jay and Gouverneur Morris, once they complete the examination, now sign their names to the secretary’s written record. This top-secret document is added to the confidential files of the Committee on Conspiracies.
For Jay and Morris, William Leary’s testimony has been illuminating. But it’s nothing compared to what they’re about to hear next.
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At approximately eleven o’clock, after Leary’s paperwork is filed away, Jay and Morris call for the next examinant: former mill worker James Mason.
Unlike Leary, who was a friendly witness, Mason is actually a suspect. Indeed, it was Leary’s adventure in Manhattan that led this alleged miller-turned-traitor to be sitting before them in this room.
Once again, Jay and Morris start questioning their witness, while a congressional secretary records the testimony for a secret file.
Mason’s story, like Leary’s, begins at the Ringwood iron mill in Goshen, New York, about fifty miles northwest of Manhattan. Mason explains that he initially went to Goshen innocently enough, looking for employment as a miller. He got some part-time work there, but not enough to make ends meet—and soon he was lured into an unexpected scheme.
He explains how a local man by the name of William Farley recruited him to betray the colonies and agree to side with the British.
Farley’s offer was quite extraordinary. He said that William Tryon, the exiled Governor of New York, was ready to give land and money to any colonist who would secretly “turn” and fight for the King.
More specifically, Farley told him “that Governor Tryon would give five Guineas bounty or two hundred acres of land for each man, one hundred for his wife and fifty for each child upon condition they would enlist in his Majesty’s Service.” Farley, the recruiter, was also “to have a bounty from the Governor for every man he could get.”
Finally, here’s the proof: William Tryon is bribing colonists to commit treason. Reports and rumors have long suggested this. But here, in this testimony, is the most blunt and detailed account yet.
The examination continues.
Mason describes his journey down to New York City with the recruiter Farley, also accompanied by another new young recruit named William Benjamin. Mason explains how they took a ferry from Elizabethtown, New Jersey, to Manhattan, where they were sent to meet a shoemaker near the East River named Peter McLean, who “was employed by the Governor” to secretly ferry recruits to the Duchess of Gordon.
Instead, McLean sent them to Houlding’s Tavern, a Loyalist hangout run by James Houlding. At Houlding’s, they met several other Loyalists and traitors closely or loosely connected to the scheme.
For Jay and Morris, these are astonishing details for their investigation. They now have more names of people to apprehend and interrogate, and more places to search, raid, and make arrests.
Mason goes on to describe how, in addition to Houlding’s, he and some other recruits were sent to another tavern named Corbie’s. This tavern is described to be on the outskirts of the city, close to George Washington’s nighttime lodgings to the northwest, near the Hudson River.
Mason describes the process at Corbie’s by which he was officially “qualified” into the Governor’s plot. Alongside a few other recruits, he says he was sworn by “the Book” not to reveal anything about the plot to anyone. He had to pledge loyalty to the Crown.
Who, exactly, oversaw this process?
According to Mason, the man who “qualified” him is named Gilbert Forbes. A gunsmith. Mason describes him as a “short, thick man who wore a white coat.”
Mason further testifies that after being qualified, he was officially on the payroll, and “Gilbert Forbes then promised … ten shillings per week subsistence money.” When it comes to the overall leadership of the plot, Mason says he “believes Gilbert Forbes is at the head [with] the Mayor & the Governor.”
Also of interest, Mason conversed with another recent recruit from Goshen who was “qualified” by Forbes. This man, by the name of Clarke, told Mason that some fifty or sixty persons from Goshen alone had enlisted in the scheme, and were now on the payroll to do the Governor’s bidding.
So, as the investigators hear the testimony, they ascertain a pattern that looks like this:
Governor Tryon hires men to find and enlist recruits in the region around New York City and bring them to Manhattan. The recruiters take the newcomers to a shoemaker named McLean, who runs a small shop near the East River. Mc
Lean secretly ferries some of them directly to the Duchess of Gordon, and sends others to lodge at Loyalist taverns in Manhattan like Houlding’s and Corbie’s. Those that go to the Duchess of Gordon are “qualified” directly by Governor Tryon or his associates on board. Those who stay in Manhattan are “qualified” by the gunsmith, Gilbert Forbes, who then pays their salary from a stash he gets from the Mayor, David Mathews.
Finally, Mason reveals the most troubling details of all—details that confirm Isaac Ketcham’s report from the jail. Mason says there are soldiers in Washington’s army who wear the Continental uniform, but have secretly joined Tryon’s conspiracy.
Not just any soldiers—the Life Guards.
Mason provides even more details than Ketcham did. He explains that after he himself was “qualified” by Forbes, he learned specifically about a number of Life Guards who are involved.
He learned that “Green of the General’s Guards, a drummer” is part of it, and adds that he personally saw “Gilbert Forbes in conversation with the said Green” discussing aspects of the plot.
Mason did not provide a first name for Green, but the last name checks out: investigators already know that the drummer of the Life Guards is in fact named William Green.
Mason also says “that one Hickey of the General’s Guards he believes to be concerned, who is now in confinement.” This, of course, is Thomas Hickey, one of the two Life Guards now in jail with Isaac Ketcham.
Mason doesn’t mention Michael Lynch, the other Life Guard confined with Hickey. But he says he’s heard about still other Life Guards who are involved: “one Barnes of the General’s Guards and one Johnson a fifer of the Guards … are qualified for the same purpose.”
According to Mason, Green was something of a leader among the Life Guards when it came to participating in the scheme. He was the one who “administered the oath” to the others, including to Hickey. Green apparently got money from Forbes, and then distributed it to the other Life Guards in the conspiracy. As Mason puts it in the examination, Green “is to have one dollar per man from Forbes for every man he shall inlist.”