s was not especially inspiriting for
the British.

There had been something of a revolt among the Philadelphia troops at
Morristown, who thought, having served their three years' enlistment,
they should be allowed to return to their homes. Sir Henry Clinton,
mistaking the spirit of the trouble, at once offered to take them under
the protection of the British government, clothe and feed them and
require no service of them, unless it was voluntarily proffered.

"See, comrades," exclaimed one of the leaders; "we have been taken for
traitors! Let us show General Clinton that the American Army can furnish
but one Arnold, and that America has no truer patriots than we. But if
we fight, we should not be compelled to starve on the field, nor have
our wives and children starving at home."

This protest aroused Congress. Taxes were imposed and submitted to
cheerfully, and Robert Morris, an ardent patriot, with Thomas Mifflin,
labored to bring about a better state of finances, and the Bank of
Pennsylvania was due to the ability and munificence of the former.

And though, as Thomas Reed admitted, "the bulk of the people were weary
of war," and the different parties in the city were almost at swords'
points, they had all joined in fierce denunciation of Arnold's treason.
His handsome estate was confiscated, not so much for its value, as it
was deeply in debt, but as an example of the detestation in which the
citizens held his crime. His wife pleaded to stay in her father's house
with her young son, but the executive council decided that she must
leave the State at once.

The mob made a two-faced effigy, which was dragged in a cart through the
streets, a band of rough music playing the Rogue's March. Afterward it
was hanged and burned, and no Tory voice was raised in his behalf,
though universal sympathy was expressed for the unfortunate young Andre.

Philemon Henry was intensely bitter about it. "But you have not all the
traitors," he wrote. "My heart has been rent by the defection of some of
our bravest men, and most trusted; and one who has seemed almost a
brother to me, as we played together in boyhood, and have kept step in
many things. I had cherished a curious hope that he might disarm thy
girlish bitterness, Primrose, and that sometime his true worth would be
apparent to you. And from the first, though he never confessed any
further than that he envied me my pretty little sister, I knew he was
more than common intereste