Unmasking Betrayal: The Complex Loyalties of Benedict Arnold

Benedict Arnold: led like sheep to slaughter
“We fight for those who repress us, but we will betray those who adore us”; that’s what my father used to always tell me. My father and I were inseparable, we did everything together, I remember every afternoon when my mom and sister went to the market to fetch supplies for supper, my father and I would gather wood from the old maples behind the house. However, one afternoon instead of getting wood from the maple trees we got it from the Andre’s house across the way. The Andre’s were a wealthy family that served at the pleasure of the crown. Their son John was one of my close friends, who also wanted to be a British solider just like his father and his father’s father. John was always the helpful

type that put his country before anything else. My father often wished I were as enthusiastic and loyal as John Andre was.
As I lie on a dirt-filled floor of General Washington’s tent, I can picture the sunny days with my father listening to the dogs howl as the birds soar above and the bickering of John Andre’s father and his business associates. As I open my eyes, I can see General Washington whisper to Private Abraham Woodhull and hand him a folded pieces of paper as Woodhull departs from the tent. “What was that all about?” I asked. “Oh nothing, just the wife has worries”, he responds. By the time, I am dressed and ready; my men have already saddled up their horses and began our journey to Lexington.
The year 1775 has been a bloody and ruthless year for my men and me. I cannot even recall the last time seeing any of my men with shoes on their feet or decent clothes on their back. General Washington has ordered we stay in Lexington until the British surrender and we have full control over the territory. “The territory is vast but the American army is fast”, I over-heard one private say as he was drowning in a bottle of whiskey. As we take out Britain’s last defense on Lexington I am informed of our overwhelming causalities and of the higher causalities suffered the Redcoats. As we celebrate this victory over the British, I cannot help but wonder where an old time friend may be lying in a pool of blood. “General, one of the Redcoats we captured has requested an audience with you.” said Private Jackson. “Why does he ask such a ridiculous request?” “He claims that he knows you and you know much of him.” “What is his name Private?” “He claims his name is Sir John Andre Sir.”
“Freeze you dirty Frenchmen, in the name of the King!” said John. “I will never surrender Redcoat!” I exclaimed. “Then it looks like your time ends here Sir Benedict Arnold!” “NOOOO! I SURRENDER! I surrender to His Majesty King George III of Great Britain and renounce the tyrant King Louis XVI of France as my king!” I proclaimed. “John Andre it’s time for supper ‘Benedict Arnold it’s time for supper!’” our mothers shouted.
“Well, well, well, long time no see old friend ‘And to you John’”. “So what is it you needed to discuss with me John?” I asked. “I need you to kill me Benedict, as favor to an old friend.” he said. “Why would you ask such a thing of me?” I asked. “Benedict you’ve known me since a young age and you know I would do anything for the country that has protected me and my family before me.” He said. “That’s more than I can say for you General.” he added. As I think of what John Andre just said, I cannot stop but think that he may be right about something, “a country that has protected me and my family before me.”
“GENERAL!” “What is it Revere?” “The normals are coming sir!” “Tell the men to man the defenses Lieutenant!” I exclaimed. “But sir, General Washington ordered half the troops to Bunker Hill to fight alongside him.” said Revere. “Well then it looks like we’ll have to fight with half an army plus one.” “Plus one sir?” asked Revere. “You said you wanted to die old friend, well here’s your chance.” “Lieutenant Revere, make sure General John Andre is equipped with the best firepower to defeat these Redcoats.” I added.
Seven hours have passed since twelve thousands of my soldiers departed for Bunker Hill. From the accounts of my soldiers at Bunker Hill, the revolutionary army has a leading victory over the Redcoats. According to Private Old Hickory, General Prescott has been victories over all the British reinforcements. Most of the soldiers credit Prescott’s victories to his strategy, not to shot until you see the whites of their eyes.
The battle here at Lexington is going as expected, with only half an army against numerous Redcoats. We have lost about a quarter of our men but we still fight until the end. My informants have said General John Andre killed on the battlefield by a gunshot wound to the shoulder. They still have not found his body but a private claims he saw him go down with only one shot. I cannot say I will not miss my old friend but he always wanted to go out the same way he came in, a Briton.
It been twelve hours since the Redcoats attacked us at Lexington.

I have not heard from my Lieutenant about the battle erupting outside my quarters for hours. When I exit my quarters I can see Lieutenant Revere running up to me with a limp in his foot. “General, the normals have advanced passed the defense and are heading this way to collect your head!” “How many men do we have left Lieutenant?” I asked. “Less than two-thousand sir.” “And even those men can’t fight sir.” He added. “Well Lieutenant, round up those who can fight and tell them we advance on the Redcoats at dusk!”
As I walk around to evaluate the soldiers who can fight, I am dismayed at the sight. Only a quarter of the able body soldiers do not have a bullet in their body or a splint around their legs. By the time we are ready to advance, I can only bring eleven hundreds of the men out of the nineteen hundred to fight alongside me.
Just when my eleven hundred soldiers and I were getting ready to set out, I receive a letter that was intercepted from the British. The men who intercepted the letter claimed to have a prisoner who was suspected of delivering the letter, his name was Abraham Woodhull. As I process that name I can recall the moment when General Washington gave him a piece of paper and whispered something in his ear. I wondered if this was the letter given to him by Washington. The only way I could be certain was to read the letters content. The letter read as

follows:

To General J.A:
I‘ve received word from Lexington that General Benedict’s forces have fallen seized to the ruthless British army. In these past few days, I have wished for this outcome, but not so soon. The treacherous government that has been formed in colonial Britain by the simple-minded patriots is on the verge of destruction. In this new formed government, I have acquired an overwhelming amount of power. With this, I have the power to send all the Revolutionary troops to one place so another will be defenseless.
Your obedient servant,
General GW
Bunker Hill

The only thing I can think about right now is why and who General Jay was. Was he a general for the Revolutionary army or the British army? All I knew was that I had to get this to the delegates in Virginia and let then decide how to proceed.
“General Benedict, they are outside waiting for your surrender.” “Should we fight sir?” “No.” I said. “I will surrender myself and accept the punishments that await me.” I added. “But sir! ‘Jackson promise me that you will finish this war no matter what.’” “I promise sir.” Jackson said. “Before I leave Private, hand me your pistol.” “Here you go sir.” he responded. “What do you think would be my fate if my misguided countrymen were to take me prisoner Private?”

“I SURRENDER!” I shouted “I surrender to His Majesty King George III of Great Britain.” As the Redcoats surround me I grip my hand around the handle of Private Jackson’s pistol and fire the gun in the direction of General William Howe. The only problem is the gun was empty and by the time I reload I am in a pool of Patriot blood.
Just as my sight fades away and I take my last breaths I can see an old friend walking up to my shivering body. As John Andre circles my body like a hungry bird, one of his Privates gives him a message: “General, Sir Benjamin Franklin is here asking about the failed assassination attempt of… BOOM…the shot heard around the world.