Knowing Arnold, and the sort of man he was, and the battles he planned, and his hold on the hearts of those who fought under him and beside him, I have this to say, and I say it gladly. Benedict Arnold was a great leader: a great general: a great mariner: the most brilliant soldier of the Revolution. He was the bravest man I have ever known. Patriotism burned in him like an unquenchable flame. But of all his brave and patriotic deeds, the one he was surest would, in the end, be most useful to this country, was, I truly believe, the tragic step that branded him forever with the name of traitor.
"...He had been the first to insist upon the value of Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and St. John's in 1775, and to plan their capture. He was the first to foresee the possibility of taking Quebec, and it was by his planning that the heroic march [across the Maine wilderness] was made. It was he who foresaw the need of a fleet [on Lake Champlain] to stop the British; and he who planned the fleet and the battle that it fought...It was he who planned the sudden march that turned St. Leger back to Canada: he who with Kosciusko chose the battleground on which to make a stand against Burgoyne; he whose leadership dealt the blows that wrecked the schemes of England. Every military move he made was planned with masterly skill.
"...Scores of officers who fought with him and thousands who fought under him know in their hearts that Benedict Arnold was a rare and solitary genius--one who, foreseeing the inevitable that was miraculously averted, had the courage to attempt what no other man dared. Other leaders said, 'We're beaten: let it be so; let Congress wreck us: let all out states dissolve in Civil War; let France come in to snatch us up again." Arnold said, 'No! This imbecile, coward Congress can not destroy the freedom we have fought to gain!'
"...Those who wish may curse Arnold; but I shall never do it. I'll curse the Congress that so nearly wrecked us: the human shrimps like Gates and Wilkinson, Easton and Brown, Hazen and Bedel, whose vision moved perpetually in a fog: the militiamen who ran off home and left us to fight at Saratoga. I'll curse the quarter million men of military age who skulked behind while a pitiful twenty thousand of us anguished and sickened, starved and froze and fought. I'll curse the merchants who trafficked and dickered and grew rich out of our wartime needs; but never, though I myself be damned for not doing it, will I curse Benedict Arnold.
There, that's my say for him. I owe him so much, and so, I believe, does this country; but there's an ancient saying that republics are ungrateful...But I am an individual, and not privileged, as a country is, to be ungrateful. I followed him in war, loved him, and saw his figure as the leaping bright sword of America--ah, when America's swords were few!"