The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [279]
The three men did not share Arnold’s nervousness. Two of them were merely laborers, ordered by his authority to row a boat out into the Hudson, to make their way to a British warship, the Vulture, anchored downstream. If they were nervous at all, it was for the darkness, a river watched by guns of both sides. But Arnold had assured them by providing documents, allowing passage through any official blockade, permission to carry the third man, Joshua Smith, to an important meeting on board the British ship.
The house belonged to Smith’s brother, William, a Tory who was now a refugee in New York. But Joshua Smith was a patriot, offering the use of his brother’s house as a wayfaring stop on the road from New Jersey to Arnold’s headquarters opposite West Point. Smith had accepted Arnold’s invitation with nervous glee, the opportunity to perform some important task for the Continental Army, a rare opportunity to throw a slap in the direction of his brother. Smith’s mission was to carry a letter from Arnold to the Vulture, a letter to confirm Smith’s identity as Arnold’s trustworthy agent. If all went according to Arnold’s plan, a passenger would accompany Smith back across the river. Smith knew that the man was very important to General Arnold, had been told only that the man’s name was John Anderson. Smith would have his men row his passenger back to a quiet place near Smith’s house, where Arnold would join Anderson for a private meeting.
Arnold had given Smith the broadest hints, had planted the notion of great secrecy, a meeting of certain value to the army. Arnold had told him that the man called Anderson could be of great help to Arnold, could in fact open a passageway into New York for all manner of valuable intelligence. Smith had learned his part of the mission with complete enthusiasm, accepted his responsibility as a patriot. All they needed was darkness.
AS FAR BACK AS 1775, ARNOLD’S SERVICE IN THE FIELD HAD BEEN EXTRAORDINARY, the capture of Fort Ticonderoga, then the first mission to Canada. During the futile assault on Quebec, he had been wounded, but maintained control of an impossible nightmare, men trapped by a hard winter in a hostile land, their mission a complete disaster. The fault had been in the plan itself, not in those who carried it out, and Arnold had brought back the survivors to an army that was suffering far greater disasters from its defeats in New York. Neither the congress nor the commanding general had time to give Benedict Arnold his due.
As the war seemed to expand beyond his reach, Arnold had sought opportunities to serve, flashes of duty in quick fights, but never the key role, never the position that would bring the attention he deserved. Washington had finally recognized him, the commanding general including Arnold in the promotion lists. But many in congress believed that Connecticut had given the army too many generals, and he was passed over. It was a hard slap at his ambition, and to Arnold, the congress seemed far too impressed by men who were prominent in defeat.
When the army had gathered to confront Burgoyne, Arnold had seen another opportunity, only to be swept aside by the abysmal Horatio Gates. Gates had done nothing to secure the victory at Saratoga, and every officer on the field knew that without Arnold, and men like Morgan and Lincoln, Gates would likely have ended up in a British prison. Instead he was the savior, the great hero, and made an obscene parade of himself