(DOWNLOAD) "Arnold's Tempter" by B. F. Comfort ~ eBook PDF Kindle ePub Free
eBook details
- Title: Arnold's Tempter
- Author : B. F. Comfort
- Release Date : January 22, 2020
- Genre: Mysteries & Thrillers,Books,
- Pages : * pages
- Size : 16417 KB
Description
CHAPTER I
Roderick Barclugh was invited to dine with the FitzMaurices and Benedict Arnold was to meet him.
The arrival in Philadelphia of a gentleman with credentials from Dr. Franklin to the Secretary of Congress, who had much influence with the French Court, and who had bills of exchange for twenty thousand pounds sterling created stirring comment among the fashionables. He was to meet without delay the choice spirits on the inside of Philadelphia’s aristocratical party.
Robert FitzMaurice’s mansion, to which had been made great additions, to suit the tastes of the new proprietor, was an old Colonial landmark. The ambition of this merchant prince and financier had ever been to establish his family and his fortunes under the English system of aristocracy, upon such a grand scale of magnificence that he could claim all the blandishments of a crest and a title which, of course, belong to a person of substance. His entertainments were numerous, and there gathered all the intriguers in and out of Congress,—those who sanctioned the Revolution on political grounds but who
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shuddered at the utterance of the word ‘democracy.’ The clergy, the judiciary, the lawyers, the knights-errant and the financiers, found congenial atmosphere and hospitality in this house; for schemes were there laid to win independence, but, once won, the English Constitution and its institutions of aristocracy and finance were the only safeguards of prosperity and liberty which the common people should consider.
Upon the occasion of the dinner for Roderick Barclugh, the guests most suitable for an affair of such financial and political importance were to be Judge Shippen and his charming daughter, Bessie; General Arnold and his bride, formerly Miss Peggy Shippen; Reverend Mr. White, Rector of St. Peter’s and brother to Mrs. FitzMaurice; Thomas Milling and Mrs. Milling; Mr. Wilson, a lawyer, and chief coadjutor in aristocratic plans. Besides the foregoing, Colonel Hamilton, the aide of General Washington, being in Philadelphia on business, and Roderick Barclugh completed the list of the older set. A bevy of young and attractive belles of the day were invited to give spirit to the party. These were Miss Chew, daughter of Judge Chew, a suspected Tory; Miss Logan, a representative of an old and distinguished Quaker family; and Miss Greydon, a beauty and wit, who, by the way,
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was the only personage present of advanced democratic belief.
At half-past five the coach-and-four of General Arnold rolled into the porte cochere of the FitzMaurice mansion, and the General, dressed with wine-colored coat and knee breeches, buckles and velvet waistcoat, lace frills in his sleeves and bosom, gallantly escorted his young and brilliant wife up the steps into the spacious hallway.
Roderick Barclugh arrived with Mr. Wilson in the latter’s carriage. Liveried lackeys bowed and scraped at every turn as the guests arrived and retired to the dressing-rooms, and afterwards presented themselves to the hostess and host in the reception room. The elegant apparel and polished manners of Roderick Barclugh impressed everybody present with a feeling that he was a man of affairs.
As General Arnold came into the room bearing on his arm Mrs. Arnold,—blushing, beautiful and distingue—, both stepping up urbanely to greet the hostess and host, Roderick Barclugh read family domination in the hauteur and firm mouth of the young dame.
As the hostess turned to Roderick Barclugh she said:
“General Arnold, may I present to you and Mrs. Arnold, Mr. Barclugh?”
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Roderick Barclugh bowed twice, very low, and Mrs. Arnold took pains to say most cordially:
“It is with much pleasure we meet you, Mr. Barclugh,” as she smiled most sweetly and passed on to the other part of the room to greet friends.
Colonel Hamilton and Roderick Barclugh were the only ones who were not intimately acquainted with every one else, so the party at once took on a most free and jolly air. The young ladies at once lionized Colonel Hamilton, who was a very popular beau of his time. Miss Greydon was already making a few good-natured sallies at the Colonel.
Mr. Wilson held the attention of Roderick Barclugh by saying:
“Why, sir, Congress has had so many hot-headed and rabid Democrats that the people of wealth and substance in the Colonies have dreaded the issue of the Revolution for fear that the rabble and ignorance of the country would rule,—in fact, I have no love for the so-called inherent rights of the people, sir.”
“But why are the influential people of substance encouraging the Revolution then, if they can see nothing except disorder and anarchy result therefrom?” was the inquisitive rejoinder of Barclugh.
“Why, sir, those New England delegates under
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Samuel Adams and the Southern delegates under Thomas Jefferson were so rabid that Robert FitzMaurice and myself and our party of conservatives in the Continental Congress were overwhelmed and compelled to sign the Declaration of Independence. We did so reluctantly and after a bitter contest, for the commercial and Quaker interests of Philadelphia opposed the declaration. If the commercial interests of our country could have the decision, there would have been no Declaration of Independence. We would have settled our differences amicably with King George, maintained our allegiance to the British Crown, and held the Colonies under the British Constitution,” was the dramatic response of the Philadelphia lawyer.
“Yes, and every one of you would bargain away your rights as free men for the sake of so-called commercial interests, which will breed a class of tyrants more potent than kings,” was the spirited retort of Miss Greydon, who had been an attentive listener to the doctrines of an advocate who, she knew, was paid for his opinions.
“Well, well, at politics already! Why it seems, Mr. Barclugh, as though the Americans were born for politics,—even the ladies have their opinions,” laughingly remarked the host as he offered his arm to Mrs. Milling, and then turned to the guests with the words:
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“James announces dinner.”
The hostess escorted Mr. Barclugh to Mrs. Arnold for her dinner partner, and General Arnold to Miss Chew. Colonel Hamilton was selected to accompany Miss Greydon, and the Reverend Mr. White, Miss Logan. Mr. Wilson offered his arm to Miss Shippen and then Mr. Thomas Milling his to the Rector’s wife, Mrs. White. The hostess graciously took the arm of the eldest of the guests, Judge Shippen, and led the party to table in the spacious dining-hall.
Mrs. Arnold at once put Roderick Barclugh at his ease by entering into a lively conversation. Her young and gay spirits shone out serenely as she said:
“I do wish, Mr. Barclugh, that this horrid war were ended, so that we could once more live in peace and enjoy our homes and society. Do you not think some good man could convince the best Americans of the folly of their cause? Why, I believe I could if I were a man,” as she archly tossed her head smilingly toward her escort.
“You could charm them into your way of thinking, madam, at all events. I believe seriously, however, much might be gained for society by such a course. Against such resources as the Bank of England controls, this war does seem
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a hopeless task,” concluded Barclugh.
At table the Reverend Mr. White invoked the divine blessing upon the assembled guests and prayed that “the havocs of war would cease by the intercession of the divine wisdom; that the mother country would be brought to a just realization of the needs of the Colonies; and that the Colonies would find their true welfare in the safety and protection of the British Constitution and laws,”—these were the sentiments of the Chaplain of Congress expressed in private.
Mrs. FitzMaurice watched Colonel Hamilton’s face to ascertain how these sentiments of her reverend brother affected one so close to the Commander-in-Chief, but seeing that the Colonel was very enthusiastic in paying his gallantries to the bevy of young ladies around him, she became convinced that the British Constitution had Hamilton’s good will.
The hostess turned to Colonel Hamilton, however, and remarked:
“Now, Colonel, we know that you get to see the young ladies very seldom from your camp, but, come, do let us hear of the Commander-in-Chief, and what the news is about him.”
“Indeed, madam, I beg your forbearance,” replied Hamilton, “General Washington is quite well, but he feels very much discouraged. He
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complains bitterly about the principal men of the Colonies being detained at home by private and Colonial affairs, so that the responsible positions of Congress have fallen into the hands of incapable and indifferent men. Everything drifts aimlessly along, while many of our able men retire from Congress in order to prosecute schemes for private gain instead of devoting their energies to the welfare of the nation.”
Robert FitzMaurice took a lively interest in the last few remarks and spiritedly replied:
“Yes, I presume we ought to ruin ourselves for the benefit of an irresponsible government. Even though we gain our independence, the government will be dominated by the rabid Whigs in whom we can have no confidence. There will be no stability of government under such demagogues as Samuel Adams and Thomas Jefferson. There will be no sound financial system, nor anything for society to respect but the rag-tag and bob-tail descended from everywhere and kin to nobody.” As he concluded the last sally, everybody joined in a general laugh.
“Where could we expect to find any grandes dames or any examples of gentlemen? We know too well already what would become of a nation ruled by shopkeepers and bushwhackers.
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I can see no virtue in the so-called schemes of self-government; society could never submit to such indignities. We would have to go to England to escape from such a rabble,” was the bitter homily of Mrs. Arnold, as she spoke in well measured language, and showed the fire of her dark eyes, and the charms of her long lashes and beautiful neck.
“Bravo, madam,” was the challenge of Mr. Wilson, the lawyer, as he lifted his wine-glass, and all the gentlemen followed to drink to the sentiments of General Arnold’s blushing bride.
As the General drained his glass, he beamed with satisfaction; the attention paid his bride tickled the vanity of his nature.
“I am convinced,” remarked Roderick Barclugh, “that if all the ladies could so successfully convince their friends, the war would soon be over.”
“Yes, and it will soon be over if Congress does not change for the better the treatment of the army,”—said Arnold, pointing to himself, while everybody laughed. “There is no gratitude for soldiers in a government by the people,” said Arnold.
“You will receive the plaudits of a great people, as an heritage to your children, General,” slyly, with a chuckle, put in Judge Shippen, his father-in-law.
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“Yes, but applause does not buy bread and butter and pay the bills, Judge,” was Arnold’s reply.
“But patriots should restrict their needs of money for the sake of their country,” was the advice of the Reverend Mr. White, the Rector of St. Peter’s Church.
“Certainly, but patriotism, like patience, ceases to be a virtue when one’s family must suffer ignominiously as a consequence,” was the rejoinder of the Commander of Philadelphia.
“But, my dear General,” said Miss Greydon, “what would our cause do if it were not for the sacrifices of our noble mothers, who say to their sons: ‘Take this Bible and keep it in your breast as your guide; care not for me. God will care for the brave and true; pursue your destiny and return not till the tyrant is driven from our shores,’—like the Spartan mother who said: ‘Come back with your shield or upon it.’”
“Ah, Miss Greydon,” said Arnold, “such sentiment is very fine, but very poor business.”
“Ha, ha! that’s it, that’s it. There’s far too much sentiment in our ideas of government,” said the lawyer, Wilson. “Sentiment can never overcome Britain’s power and wealth.”
Now that the dinner was well along, and Miss
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Greydon saw that if any one was to show loyalty to the cause of the Colonies at this gathering of choice aristocratic spirits, she must assume the task, thus she essayed to reply to the lawyer:
“But, Mr. Wilson, the day will be a very sad one for our government and for our countrymen when we can surrender our cardinal virtues of patriotism and self-denial in order to let personal gain shape the destiny of our government. If mere arms and money are more powerful than the ideas of freedom, of equality and of justice, then wealth and brute force will rule the world. But if every true American stands firmly for self-government and an independent system of finance and our own social relations, Britain can never conquer us. Our nation will prosper and put Britons to shame for the selfishness and audacity of their claims. Were I possessed of the powers of an orator, I would not rest until our Colonies were free to govern themselves in behalf of human rights—not wealth.”
Everybody looked toward Mrs. Arnold, and those who knew her well expected an outburst of her fiery nature, but the hostess, feeling it was now time for the ladies to retire, arose and interposed very gracefully:
“I think we had better retire in favor of the gentlemen, who can settle those questions of
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state by means of wine and song.”
No sooner had the ladies gone, than the host said to the butler at his side:
“James, you will now bring in the ‘jolly mariner.’”
At once the head waiter appeared bearing a huge punch-bowl laden with a concoction,—the pride of the host. Besides slices of tropical fruits and a foundation of rare old Burgundy, it was made smooth with sugar and Jamaica rum. Then by way of a backbone to “stiffen” it a little, James had put in a good portion of Cognac.
General Arnold had already drunk with everybody whom he could induce; he was just beginning to feel his importance when the “jolly mariner” arrived, and glasses were filled; then Arnold gave vent to the toast nearest his heart. He arose and proposed,
“Here’s success to privateering.”
Standing, everybody drank deeply to this sentiment, for the host was enriching himself on it, and Arnold hoped to support his extravagance by it. The punch was so smooth that even the old heads desired another bumper.
Old Thomas Milling, the head of the host’s trading-firm, was now beginning to feel rather mellow and when he reflected that privateering smacked of the gay sea-rover he sang a couple
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of stanzas of the old ballad:
“My name was Captain Kidd,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d,
“I roamed from sound to sound
“And many a ship I found,
“That I sank or ran aground,
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d;
“When I sail’d, when I sail’d.”
“By George, that punch has the magic in it, Robert, to make Milling turn loose,” said Wilson.
“Bravo, Milling.”
“Encore, encore.”
“Ha, ha! We’ll have the next,” rang out a medley of voices.
“All’s well, gentlemen, if it pleases you,” continued the old merchant:
“Farewell to young and old
“All jolly seamen bold,
“You’re welcome to my gold,
“I must die, I must die.
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“I must die, I must die.”
“Here’s to the gold, gentlemen, he says we’re welcome—hic—to it,” said Arnold as he extended a wobbling wine-glass.
“Captain Kidd must have been a bold rover of the seas,” remarked Roderick Barclugh, “to have been commissioned by the British Admiralty to clear the seas of pirates and then to have turned to the plundering himself. I rather admire the audacity of character. His riches would have made him a great man if he had escaped the gallows, like many another before and since his time. The riches are what we must have, no matter so much how they come.”
“Hear, hear, gentlemen,” said Arnold, as he stupidly raised his wine-glass and drank again, “we must have the riches.”
At this moment the butler came quietly into the room and touching General Arnold on the arm, delivered a message.
The Commander of Philadelphia took his leave, and everybody smiled as he made extra efforts to steady his steps out of the room.
While the gentlemen were discussing privateers and the “jolly mariner,” the ladies had gone to the drawing-room to have coffee served.
Mrs. FitzMaurice by an opportune retirement
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of the ladies from the table had evaded an impending storm, for she had known Mrs. Arnold from girlhood, and saw that a conflict of sentiment between her and Miss Greydon was inevitable. As the hostess had a premonition of the impending clash, she thought best to have the scene among the ladies alone, for they all knew the hysterical temper of the General’s wife.
As soon as the ladies had been seated at the tables for coffee, Mrs. Arnold’s ire began to gather headway.
“I should think,” she said, “that examples of the Spartan woman were good enough for the common people, but for the gentry to give up their birth-rights and fortunes, and to sacrifice themselves and their future for a miserable system of self-government, such statements are vulgar and indecent. Why, just to think! General Arnold asked the Committee on Military Affairs and the Commander-in-Chief to be transferred to the command of West Point, and thus far they have ignored his request. Surely he deserves some honors.”
“Why, Mrs. Arnold, I believe the proper thing to do, entertaining such sentiments toward our principles of free government, instead of seeking West Point, that General Arnold ought to resign, or in fact join the other party,” flashed
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from Miss Greydon’s ready tongue.
“That’s too much. I—I—I can’t stand it. O General! O Papa! I must leave this room. Somebody, somebody better come here,” shrieked the General’s wife as the hostess led the unfortunate lady to the dressing-room, and sent for General Arnold.
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