ignorant, uncultured woman, his father a
defaulter in middle life, in his age a sot, the boy was left to follow
the promptings of his own will, naturally strong and turbulent. His
youth was stormy and insubordinate, his young manhood not without the
reproach of dishonorable mercantile dealings, and even the splendor of
his military achievements in the service of his country could scarcely
blind the judgment of his warmest admirers to the suspicious
stains upon his moral character. That the last link in the chain
of influences might not be wanting, Arnold, while in command of
Philadelphia in 1778, fell deeply in love with and married the
youngest daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen (afterward chief-justice), a
distinguished lawyer of well-known Tory proclivities, although he
was entirely acquitted of any share in the treasonable design of
his son-in-law. It does not appear that there was any very serious
objection made in the Shippen household to the rebel general's suit
for the hand of the lovely Peggy. Arnold was at this time about
thirty-eight years of age, in the vigorous prime of a life whose
declining years were destined to be passed in a sort of contemptuous
tolerance among those with whom he had been at bargain and sale for
the liberties of his country. Covered with well-earned glory from
his brilliant feats of bravery at the battles of Bemis Heights and
Stillwater, and slightly lame from a severe wound in the leg received
at Quebec, he was at last accorded his full rank in the army,
and entered upon the military command of Philadelphia with every
conceivable circumstance in his favor. The stories of his courage and
daring which had preceded him, aided by his handsome person and fine
military bearing, combined to ensure his success in society, and he
was at once given the entree to the best city families, from one of
which he soon singled out the lady who became his wife. Her father
writes to Colonel Burd in January, 1779, that "General Arnold, a fine
gentleman, lays close siege to Peggy," and goes on to hint that a
wedding may soon be expected. If the traitor's tongue was only half
as persuasive as his pen, small wonder that the damsel capitulated.[4]
"Dear Peggy," sighs the ardent lover upon paper, "suffer that
heavenly bosom (which cannot know itself the cause of pain without a
sympathetic pang) to expand with a sensation more soft, more tender
than friendship.... I have presumed to write to your papa, and have
re