The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [280]
Arnold finally received his promotion to major general only because Washington sliced through the blather in congress, convincing them to reward the man who had earned the rank. When the British abandoned Philadelphia, a crippled Arnold was assigned to command the city. But for long months, Arnold’s bitterness toward the congress festered, a growing hatred of the generals who seemed to have such talent for putting their names into the public eye. His passion for the cause began to fade, and Philadelphia became an opportunity of a different type. It was a place where the enterprising and the ingenious could profit, and Arnold took advantage. The grand social scene there had brought him alive again, and despite the hostility and the accusations of corruption, Arnold had found a comfortable home. But the congress was too close, and he began to feel the wrath of jealous men, men who envied the stature of the senior commander. He was charged with serious offenses of corruption, and congress ordered him to stand for court-martial. But the evidence was scant, the man too skilled at covering his tracks. In the end, he could only be convicted on charges so minor that a relieved Washington could eliminate the issue with a mild reprimand.
Despite his notoriety, Arnold still attended the grand ballrooms, and he was astounded to attract the eye of the most sought-after beauty in Philadelphia. Peggy Shippen seemed to adhere herself to him, and the gossip that swirled around him only increased. She was half his age, but he fell in love, and when they were married, the gossip turned more toward her than her husband. He was completely dazzled by her, jealous of the attention that even her marriage had not discouraged. He knew she was spoiled, and he enjoyed it, allowed her every indulgence he could provide. When his own resources did not satisfy, he was amazed at her own resourcefulness, her ongoing relationships with those now in New York, the Tory civilians who had gone with the British, as well as the British officers themselves. Her needs continued to grow, and he continued to accommodate her. Their private hours were the most passionate he had ever known, and he would have done anything to keep her close to him. When she began to show sadness for the loss of British elegance, whispering to him in those soft moments, yearning for the grandeur she missed, he began to see a new path, a new means to take her out of the despair of this never-ending war. The more they spoke of it, the more bitterness he had for the cause of her unhappiness. There could be no peace in Philadelphia, no peace serving in an army that abused and punished its best commanders, while elevating men like Horatio Gates to such a lofty perch. His time in Philadelphia had given him a feel for business, a flair for delicate finance. As he began to explore a new world for her, new possibilities, he was grateful that she agreed, and within a short time, it was her discreet contacts, her means of reaching her acquaintances in New York that opened the door.
He did not wrestle with a moral dilemma, did not hesitate to offer himself as currency. Peggy swept away any last doubts by observing that there could be no treason to a country that never truly existed. He anticipated that Henry Clinton would find him to be a valuable asset, worthy of significant reward by his service alone. But Clinton had disappointed him, seemed more interested in what Arnold could bring with him as a prize. It was suggested that Arnold lead a body of troops in some unwise mission, allowing himself to be cut off, forced to surrender. But there were no troops for him to lead, no looming fight that would offer him either the command or the opportunity. Instead, there would have to be a place, an outpost, a garrison, someplace Arnold could weaken with such discretion that his officers would not detect it. He could supply the plans, the details of weakness, of troop placement, all the tools the British could