Benedict Arnold Quotes

I like this sweater,” I protest. Garrett glances at Allie. “Hi, I’m Garrett. What’s your name again?” “Allie. Hannah’s roommate and BFF.” “Great. Well, can you tell your roomie and BFF that she looks like a reject from a sailing show?” She laughs, and then, to my horror—Benedict Arnold!—she agrees with him. “It wouldn’t

I suppose the true test of character comes when facing life’s harshest blows and disappointments. When things don’t turn out how you had hoped they would, do you grow bitter? Spiteful? Blame others and spread your misery? Or do you keep your head high and walk with grace, meeting the struggles which God has placed in your path?

Having an affair with your good friend's wife while he's in an institution and your wife is in a hospital ranks somewhere between Benedict Arnold and the guy who invented Girls Gone Wild on the spectrum of Total Dickheads in American History.

the greatest danger to America’s future came from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism. At

Without the discovery of Arnold's treason in the fall of 1780, the american people might never have been forced to realize that the real threat to their liberties came not from without but from within.

This meant that while the vast majority of the country’s citizens stayed at home, the War for Independence was being waged, in large part, by newly arrived immigrants.

Brown made a claim that possibly hit a little too close to home. 'Money is this man's god,' the handbill read, 'and to get enough of it, he would sacrifice his country.

She cared nothing for Robert Balmor, and in fact had felt relief each time she’d remembered that both he and André were gone. Letting that man kiss her had been foolish and naïve, but it was none of Cal’s business.

Thomas Paine was so inspired by the heroism displayed at Fort Mifflin that he published an open letter to William Howe: 'You are fighting for what you can never obtain and we are defending what we never mean to part with.

No longer an American, Benedict Arnold was never accepted as an Englishman, either.

People guide you and you don't even know it. You don't have simple traitors anymore like Benedict Arnold

When you ask for a frigate, they give you a raft. Ask for sailors, they give you tavern waiters. And if you want breeches, they give you a vest.  Benedict Arnold to David Hawley, August 1776 In

We all know the story: how a defiant and undisciplined collection of citizen soldiers banded together to defeat the mightiest army on earth. But as those who lived through the nearly decadelong saga of the American Revolution were well aware, that was not how it actually happened. The real Revolution was so troubling and strange that once the struggle was over, a generation did its best to remove all traces of the truth. No one wanted to remember how after boldly declaring their independence they had so quickly lost their way; how patriotic zeal had lapsed into cynicism and self-interest; and how, just when all seemed lost, a traitor had saved them from themselves.

Beyond that was a small orchard, its trees appearing to hold the first signs of apples. Cherry blossoms bloomed in the May warmth, forming neat columns of shady pathways. The manicured grass, so unlike the wild fields of the farm, was intersected by meandering pebbled walkways, where her ladies must tread when receiving finely dressed visitors. Birdsong pierced the blue sky, as did the aroma of fresh-petaled flowers.

Don’t forget that before he turned traitor, Benedict Arnold was a hero of the Revolution. He betrayed everyone he knew—everyone he had fought beside, everything he had fought for—not for money or ideals but out of pride. Injuries and insults eventually became too much for him to bear.

It would be the twentieth century before the opening of the British Headquarters Papers at the University of Michigan proved what the eighteenth century refused to believe that a young and beautiful woman was capable of helping Benedict Arnold plot the greatest conspiracy of the American Revolution and then completely fooling the astute warriors around her.

By 1778, British peace commissioners were offering to rectify all the American grievances of 1776, ignoring only the demand for independence.

The fiercely independent Arnold did not need the encouragement of Loyalists: he may have thought of changing sides as early as the seniority controversy two years earlier

If Peggy's personal star was on the rise, Arnold's was in freefall as their respective ships headed into the high seas.

even in the Loyalist press inside British-occupied New York City by February 1779. The Royal Gazette, praising Benedict Arnold for being "more distinguished for valor and perseverance" than any other American, including Washington, wondered why the enemy was wasting his "military talents" and had permitted him "thus to fall into the unmerciful fangs of the executive council of Pennsylvania."1

In a letter to Benjamin Franklin he described how the explosion of the Augusta created a cloud like none other he had ever seen: “a thick smoke rising like a pillar and spreading from the top like a tree.” It did not become the symbol of a new and terrible age of destruction for another 168 years, but in the fall of 1777 the skyline of Philadelphia was darkened by the shadow of the mushroom cloud.

In the years after the War of Independence, historian paid scant attention to the Siege of Fort Mifflin, primarily because, Martin believed 'there was no Washington, Putnam, or Wayne there.' 'Had there been,' he conjecture, 'the affair would have been extolled to the skies.' As Martin and the five hundred defenders of Fort Mifflin had learned first-hard, 'great men get great priase, little men nothing.

in August 1777 that "no public or private injury or insult shall prevail on me to forsake the cause of my injured and oppressed country until I see peace and liberty restored or nobly die in the attempt."2

Envy and malice are indefatigable. Where they have not invention enough to frame new slanders, or the slanders newly framed are found totally inadequate to their purpose, they will call in the feeble aid of old calumnies

I daily discover so much baseness and ingratitude among mankind that I almost blush at being of the same species, and could quit the stage without regret, was it not for some gentle, generous souls like my dear Peggy. Benedict

The United States had been created through an act of disloyalty. No matter how eloquently the Declaration of Independence had attempted to justify the American rebellion, a residual guilt hovered over the circumstances of the country's founding. Arnold changed all that. By threatening to destroy the newly created republic through, ironically, his own betrayal, Arnold gave this nation of traitors the greatest of gifts; a myth of creation. The American people had come to revere George Washington, but a hero alone was not sufficient to bring them together. Now they had the despised villain Benedict Arnold. They knew both what they were fighting for - and against. The story of American's genesis could finally move beyond the break with the mother country and start to focus on the process by which thirteen former colonies could become a nation. As Arnold had demonstrated, the real enemy was not Great Britain, but those Americans who sought to undercut their fellow citizens commitment to one another. Whether it was Joseph Reed's willingness to promote his state's interests at the expenses of what was best for the country as a whole or Arnold's decision to sell his loyalty to the highest bidder, the greatest danger to America's future cam from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism. At this fragile state in the country's development, a way had to be found to strengthen rather than destroy the existing framework of government. The Continental Congress was far from perfect, but it offered a start to what could one day be a great nation. By turning traitor, Arnold had alerted the American people to how close they had all come to betraying the Revolution by putting their own interests ahead of their newborn country's. Already the name Benedict Arnold was becoming a byword for that most hateful of crimes: treason against the people of the United States.

Since republics rely on the inherent virtue of the people, they are exceedingly fragile. All it takes is one well-placed person to destroy everything. Washington, his face betraying the sadness, anger, and shock of this most recent revelation, turned to Lafayette and asked, “Whom can we trust now?

Prudence, policy and a true Christian spirit will lead us to look with compassion upon their errors without insulting them. While we are contending for our own liberty, we should be very cautious of violating the rights of conscience in others, ever considering that God alone is the judge of the hearts of men and to him only, in this case, they are answerable.16 When

Benedict Arnold was appointed to the rank of general in the Continental Army by George Washington during the American War of Independence. It was up to him to protect the fortifications at West Point, New York, which in 1802 became the U.S. Military Academy. Arnold however planned to surrender his command to the British forces. When his treasonous act was discovered Arnold fled down the Hudson River to the British sloop-of-war Vulture, avoiding capture by the forces of George Washington, who had previously been alerted to the plot. Arnold was hailed a hero by the British, who gave him a commission in the British Army as brigadier general. In the winter of 1782, after the war, he moved to London with his wife where he was received as a hero by King George III. In the United States his name "Benedict Arnold" became synonyms for the words “TRAITOR & TREASON.” Cohorting with a foreign power to overthrow the government or purposely aiding the enemy is an act of Treason!

It was not as if the rest of the nation was suffering from want. .. Americans were experiencing a war-related economic boom. these same citizens might be enjoying an unusual level of prosperity, but they were not aboutto share it with their struggling national government and their even more beleaguered army. Without an ability to raise its own taxes, the Continental Congress had been printing its own money to pay for the war. But after five years of churning out bills that had become almost worthless, Congress was left with few options. By the spring of 1780 every thing was beginning to grind to a terrible and tragic halt.

. . . to voice private sympathies in the context of an official proceeding would require Washington to become, in his own words, 'lost to my own character.' Here, in this reference to character, Washington hit upon the essential difference between himself and Arnold. Washington's sense of right and wrong existed outside the impulsive demands of his own self-interest. Rules mattered to Washington. Even though Congress had made his life miserable for the last four years, he had found ways to do what he considered best for his army and his country without challenging the supremacy of civil authority. To do otherwise, to declare himself, like the seventeenth-century English revolutionary Oliver Cromwell, master of his army and his country, would require him to become 'lost to my own character.' For Arnold, on the other hand, rules were made to be broken. He had done it as a pre-Revolutionary merchant and he had done it as military governor of Philadelphia. This did not make Arnold unusual. Many prominent Americans before and since have lived in the gray area between selfishness and altruism. What made Arnold unique was the god-like inviolability he attached to his actions. He had immense respect for a man like Washington, but Arnold was, in the end, the leading person-age in the drama that was his life. Not lost to his own character, but lost in it, Arnold did whatever Arnold wanted.

You are fighting for what you can never obtain, and we are defending what we never mean to part with.

As Arnold had demonstrated, the real enemy was not Great Britain, but those Americans who sought to undercut their fellow citizens’ commitment to one another.

Suppose it were possible to conceive that a president and council of one of the united states were the persons with whom those other means have been used—what would be the line of conduct they would probably pursue . . . ? Would it not be to divide the people by every means in their power; to lessen the reputation and consequently the weight and authority of the great council of the United States; to poison the minds of the people and prejudice them against Congress by misrepresentation of facts and publications calculated to deceive; to seize every occasion of quarreling with Congress, and endeavor to bring the other states and particularly the legislature of their own into the dispute; to labor to damn the reputation of . . . general officers of the army, not sparing those of their own state whom they cannot hope to influence, especially such as are distinguished for their spirit and bravery; and if they cannot effect their purpose to disparage their past services, pour upon them a torrent of abuse with a gentle salvo of “as it is reported and believed”; and to . . . alienate the inhabitants of their own state from the service by representing military discipline as degrading to freemen; . . . to leave the defenses of their country unguarded and unrepaired, that the enemy may meet with no opposition, in case they think proper to attack or invade it, etc.

As Arnold had demonstrated, the real enemy was not Great Britain, but those Americans who sought to undercut their fellow citizens’ commitment to one another. Whether it was Joseph Reed’s willingness to promote his state’s interests at the expense of what was best for the country as a whole or Arnold’s decision to sell his loyalty to the highest bidder, the greatest danger to America’s future came from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism.

Arnold went into treason as into a business, surveying the ground and estimating the possible profits.

Lee wrote, “[and] lament with you that fatal indecision of mind which in war is a much greater disqualification than stupidity or even want of personal courage. . . . Eternal defeat and miscarriage must attend the man of the best parts if cursed with indecision.” Washington was as aware as

doing what Americans had always done: profit as best they could from whatever commercial circumstances presented themselves.

Thomas Jefferson, brilliant theorist of the Declaration of Independence, was a disaster as the state’s wartime governor. Instead of organizing Virginia’s resources on an emergency basis, he had concentrated on building an ideal government where nothing was done without the consent of the governed. As a result, Virginia, with 50,000 militia on her rolls, was unable to repulse 900 British under traitor Benedict Arnold, when they came to raid in late 1780.

Come then, ye generous citizens, range yourselves under the standard of General Liberty, against which all the force and artifice of tyranny will never be able to prevail. General

The war with Mexico fiercely divided the American people. While the majority supported the war, a loud minority despised it, and their rancor filled the newspapers and the debates in the houses of Congress. A newly elected congressional representative from Illinois, Abraham Lincoln, declared: ‘The war with Mexico was unnecessarily and unconstitutionally commenced by the president.’ Lincoln challenged Polk on the issue that American blood had been shed on American soil and implied that the American troops were the aggressors. He charged that Polk desired ‘military glory … that serpent’s eye which charms to destroy … I more than suspect that Polk is deeply conscious of being in the wrong and that he feels the blood of this war, like the blood of Abel, is crying to Heaven against him.’ However, like many critics of the war, Lincoln voted for an appropriations bill to support military operations. An Illinois newspaper responded to Lincoln’s fulminations by branding him a ‘second Benedict Arnold,’ and Lincoln was defeated for reelection. Comparing Lincoln to Arnold was perhaps the most vicious charge that could then be made against an American. General Arnold has been a trusted favorite of George Washington during the American Revolutionary War. In August 1780 he had turned traitor and attempted to turn over the American army’s position at West Point to the British in exchange for money and a brigadier’s commission in the British army. His act of treachery was discovered but he was able to escape to safety behind British lines. Henry Clay, a former senator from Kentucky and unsuccessful candidate for president, often called the ‘Great Pacificator’ or the ‘Great Compromiser’ for his efforts to hold the Union together, spoke out forcefully: ‘The Mexican war,’ he said, ‘is one of unnecessary and offensive aggression … Mexico is defending her firesides, her castles, and her altars, not we.’ Representative

he often did at a moment of great crisis, Arnold threw a party for the congressmen in the mansion

against which all the force and artifice of tyranny will never be able to prevail. General

We can have traders, without them being traitors. We can trade, without trading others. We can trade our traits, and not our worst ones, with others. We can trade our traitors for better traders, or they can become better traders themselves. Let the market trade this way.

Arnolds’ names should come up in conversation that summer. Benedict’s family was established just across the border in Connecticut, and the former Miss Shippen—whose own family was extremely well connected—had been acquainted with many of the officers now in New York. Benedict Arnold’s name might have even been something of a joke, at first, among the British. Here was an overly eager merchant–turned–major general who seemed

August 3, 1780, Benedict Arnold found himself the most powerful man on the Hudson. He wasted no time in capitalizing on his new position. Almost immediately he began repairing the fort and stocking it with as many provisions as possible. If he was going to turn West Point over to the British, he might as well win points with his new commanders by outfitting it on the American dime first; he even consulted a French engineer fighting alongside the Americans, Major Chevalier de Villefranche. “Major Villefranche

British lottery for the relief of the poor,

seventy to eighty former members of their secret police that the British left behind undetected in Philadelphia.

Return enraptur'd Hours, When Delia's heart was mine; When she, with wreaths of flowers, My Temples wou'd entwine. When Jealousy nor care Corroded in my Breast, But Visions, light as Air, Presided o'er my Rest— Now Nightly round my Bed No airy Visions play; No Flowers crown my Head Each Vernal Holyday‑ For far from those sad Plains My Lovely Delia flies, And rack'd with Jealous Pains, Her wretched Lover dies.34

He claimed as a loss that "in consequence of his loyalty and engagements with Sir Henry Clinton he refused the command of the American Army in South Carolina, offered him by Washington, which was afterwards given to Greene, who [the memorialist is informed] has been rewarded . . . with the sum of 20,000 pounds . . . which would probably have been given to [Arnold] had he accepted the command."78

General Arnold's affection for me is unbounded. He is the best of husbands. Peggy Shippen Arnold to her father, February 1786 Twenty-five

He had decided, almost hysterically it seems from the tone of this desperate letter to Washington, to turn his back on the people who had so rejected and wounded him, and make his peace with the British.

FEW PEOPLE TODAY recall Van Meegeren. Outside the art world, even those in educated circles respond to a mention of his name with blank stares. (Inside the art world he remains notorious, so much so that insiders refuse to believe that his story is not every bit as familiar in the world at large as that of, say, Benedict Arnold.)

it is a maxim founded on the universal experience of mankind that no nation is to be trusted farther than it is bound by its interest, and no prudent statesman or politician will venture to depart from it.

Cindy Haden continued visiting Richard every chance she got. She’d come mostly on weekends, when Doreen was visiting, too. The two women began seeing each other at the jail. Doreen felt Cindy was a “low-down, hypocritical bitch” who could have hung the jury. Whenever Doreen saw Cindy at the jail, she would narrow her eyes and regard her with utter disdain. When Doreen asked Richard why the hell he would allow that Benedict Arnold to visit, he said she was a juror and might be of help if he chose to appeal his conviction. After a few months of Cindy driving all the way to San Francisco every weekend, she began thinking she would move north permanently so she could be close to Richard. She was in love with him and had pictures of him in frames on her night table and on the wall opposite her bed. Cindy had told her parents about her relationship with Richard and had actually brought her mom and dad to the jail so they could meet him. When Richard first sat across from them in the visiting booth, Cindy said, “Mom, Dad, this is Richard,” as Richard smiled shyly. “I know you’ve heard some bad things about him, but he’s got a lot of good points, too.” Richard sheepishly said hello, waved, and began talking to Cindy’s father, who, like his father, had worked for a railroad. They had “something in common,” as Cindy later put it. Cindy agreed to do several national talk shows—“Donahue” once and “Geraldo” twice—and told the world, in a very passionate voice, that Richard Ramirez had had improper counsel and his convictions should be overturned.

Old Morgan, as I said, was terribly shocked. If Nolan had compared George Washington to Benedict Arnold, or had cried, “God save King George,” Morgan would not have felt worse. He called the court into his private room, and returned in fifteen minutes, with a face like a sheet, to say, — “Prisoner, hear the sentence of the Court! The Court decides, subject to the approval of the President, that you never hear the name of the United States again.

the greatest danger to America’s future came from self-serving opportunism masquerading as patriotism.

Now he’s a Benedict Arnold who deserves an ass kickin’.

A letter from Scott Boydston of Birmingham, Alabama, began by calling out the Confederate cause, saying, “The dirtiest blot on the pages of American History was written by rebel statesmen of the South. Why honor them?” Boydston suggested that Confederate monuments were the equivalent of erecting a monument “to the memory of Benedict Arnold.” He believed that the South held the nation back and concluded that “only fools would want to glorify men who fought in defense of human slavery.

That Hamilton adhered to a code of gentlemanly honor was confirmed in yet another sideshow of the Benedict Arnold affair: the arrest of Major John André, adjutant general of the British Army and Arnold’s contact, traveling under the nom de guerre John Anderson. As he awaited a hearing to decide his fate, he was confined at a tavern in Tappan, New York. Though seven years younger than André, Hamilton developed a sympathy for the prisoner born of admiration and visited him several times. A letter that Hamilton later wrote to Laurens reveals his nearly worshipful attitude toward the elegant, cultured André, who was conversant with poetry, music, and painting. Hamilton identified with André’s misfortune in a personal manner, as if he saw his own worst nightmare embodied in his fate: To an excellent understanding, well improved by education and travel, [André] united a peculiar elegance of mind and manners and the advantage of a pleasing person. . . . By his merit, he had acquired the unlimited confidence of his general and was making a rapid progress in military rank and reputation. But in the height of his career, flushed with new hopes from the execution of a project the most beneficial to his party that could be devised, he was at once precipitated from the summit of prosperity and saw all the expectations of his ambition blasted and himself ruined.55

That Hamilton adhered to a code of gentlemanly honor was confirmed in yet another sideshow of the Benedict Arnold affair: the arrest of Major John André, adjutant general of the British Army and Arnold’s contact, traveling under the nom de guerre John Anderson. As he awaited a hearing to decide his fate, he was confined at a tavern in Tappan, New York. Though seven years younger than André, Hamilton developed a sympathy for the prisoner

The real Revolution was so troubling and strange that once the struggle was over, a generation did its best to remove all traces of the truth. No one wanted to remember how after boldly declaring their independence they had so quickly lost their way; how patriotic zeal had lapsed into cynicism and self-interest; and how, just when all seemed lost, a traitor had saved them from themselves.

Having scanned the faces of the spectators, Andre mounted the wagon, stood on the coffin, removed his hat, and lowered his shirt collar. "It will be but a momentary pang,' Dr. James Thacher heard him say. Seizing the noose, Andre brought it over his head, tied a knot under his left ear, and placed a handkerchief over his eyes. When asked for his last words, the British officer raised his handkerchief. 'I pray you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.

The former Philadelphia belle's evolution from the fragile, compliant bride fo the American traitor to a restrained wife was remarkable enough, but what followed was even more surprising: a revelation of strengths Peggy long held in reserve. Her transition was born of necessity.

The former Philadelphia belle's evolution from the fragile, compliant bride of the American traitor to a restrained wife was remarkable enough, but what followed was even more surprising: a revelation of strengths Peggy long held in reserve. Her transition was born of necessity.

To soften relations between the two groups and meet Philadelphia's fashionable young beauties, Arnold hosted a ball at the... City Tavern with a guest list that included Tories and neutralists, as well as patriots. Inevitably the 'disaffected' emerged triumphant, their beaded gowns gleaming in the candlelight, their two-feet--high hairdos towering over the caps of patriot woman in their crude clothes.

Peggy was equally enchanted with the older, more sexually experienced Arnold. Long after their honeymoon and first years of marriage, she continued to praise Arnold as 'the best of husbands.

Raised in an era when women were valued for their sexuality, solicitude , and silence, the eighteen year old stood loyally by Arnold's side.

If Arnold's leap to the British was to succeed, Peggy must play the innocent as his cheerful and charming young wife.

Pegg, cowering in her bedroom, asked her housekeeper to check on the ailing Varick. Then, willing herself in to a frenzy, she tore at her hair and clothes, weeping, her sobs accelerating in volume.

Contradictory emotions roiled over her; grief over Arnold's thwarted plans and their mutual hopes for a large reward; relief that her husband was safe, coupled with doubts abut their marriage. Would she ever see Arnold again?

To most Americans, Peggy remains an enigmatic and nearly forgotten figure. Early historians depicted the former Philadelphia belle as a Loyalist whose fondness for British officer John Andre led her to corrupt Arnold's political views. By the early twentieth century, members of her family attempted to correct that view.

Without the discovery of Arnold’s treason in the fall of 1780, the American people might never have been forced to realize that the real threat to their liberties came not from without but from within.

Midshipman Edward Pellew was in the British boat right behind Arnold's. The American general had escaped, but in his haste he had left behind his stock and buckle, which Pellew took as a keepsake. Years later, by which time Pellew had become the much-decorated admiral Viscount Exmouth, he could not help but wonder how differently the War of Independence might have turned out if on that cold autumn day near the southern tip of Lake Champlain he had captured Benedict Arnold.

In an October 6 letter to Lord Stirling, he set forth the principle that would guide his increasingly sophisticated intelligence-gathering efforts. "As we are often obliged to reason the designs of the enemy from the appearances which come under our own observation and the information of our spies," Washington wrote, "we cannot be too attentive to these things which may afford us new light. Every minutia should have a place in our collection. For things of a seemingly trifling nature when conjoined with others of a more serious cast may lead to very valuable conclusions." But as Washington was to learn to his great regret, sometimes what were to become "the designs of the enemy" were developing in plain sight.

To help members of Congress and their staffs understand the nature of the risk, I invited a computer science and engineering professor from the University of Michigan to visit the Capitol and demonstrate the ease with which a hacker could change an election’s outcome. We gathered in a room in the Capitol Visitor Center, where the professor had set up a paperless voting machine used in numerous states, including swing states like Florida, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. Four senators participated—Senators Lankford, Richard Burr, Claire McCaskill, and me—and the room was filled with staffers who had come to better understand the process. The professor simulated a vote for president, where we were given a choice between George Washington and the infamous Revolutionary War traitor Benedict Arnold. As you might imagine, all four of us voted for George Washington. But when the result came back, Benedict Arnold had prevailed. The professor had used malicious code to hack the software of the voting machine in a way that assured Arnold’s victory, no matter how the four of us had voted. He told us that the machine was very easily hacked, enough so that, in a demonstration elsewhere, he turned one into a video game console and played Pac-Man on it. Can you imagine?

They were uncouth and not cultivated, and not particularly industrious; but they were honest and straightforward, and their virtuous ways commanded respect. Their patriotism was strong, their pride in the flag was of the old fashioned pattern, their love of country amounted to idolatry. Whoever dragged the national honor in the dirt won their deathless hatred. They still cursed Benedict Arnold as if he were a personal friend who had broken faith—but a week gone