Valiant Ambition George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the Fate of the American Revolution

In Valiant Ambition, Philbrick does two things which were very helpful to me in understanding the American Revolution: he puts all the major battles and campaigns (except for the last year of the war) in context with at least summaries of the key events, and he explains Washington's and Arnold's involvement in each. Washington is the perfect foil for understanding Arnold; they shared several qualities, but were dramatically different where it mattered most. Both men were almost recklessly aggressive, and in combat men were drawn to them because they were men of action who were completely, almost foolishly brave in battle, but as it turned out, Washington had characteristics that were notably absent in Arnold, and Philbrick's focus on both men illustrates Arnold's missing parts. Most Americans think of Washington as an aloof, aristocratic figure, stiff and unknowable, but to his closest companions, his aides and generals, he looked completely different. He had an uncanny ability to attract the brightest young men (think Hamilton and LaFayette, but also many others) who became like family to him, and those young men were loyal to him for life. Washington had, first of all, the greatest self-control and self-discipline of any figure from that era, and perhaps any era, and he needed it all to deal with a Continental Congress that was dysfunctional even by today's standards. Congress appointed multiple incompetent generals with whom Washington was obliged to collaborate, and Washington always followed Congress' direction because he firmly believed in civilian control of the military. But he was also sly, and he often found ways to put these politically appointed generals into roles where their true abilities were put undeniably on display, like Gates at the Battle of Camden. Washington skillfully maneuvered and dismantled the Conway Cabal, whose members were working to replace him as commander. He was tactful, patient, wise, and in most cases an excellent judge of character, but he also was full of energy and passion, which his immense self-control hid from view. One might say of Washington, a great leader, but perhaps not a Great Captain, because he made errors early in the war at the battle of New York and at Brandywine River that could have destroyed the army. Yet he learned from his mistakes. So when it came to Arnold, Washington had more than a little empathy for the man. Arnold had given up a prosperous business to join the Patriot cause, he had been wounded leading his forces at Quebec, and all the men who had served with him in combat praised his brilliance as a tactician and his fearlessness in combat. Arnold then orchestrated the battle on Lake Champlain that prevented the British from gaining control of the Hudson, and through all of this, and later at Saratoga, he was consistently denied his due by Congress; he was passed over for promotion to Major General when he was clearly one of the best battlefield generals in the Army. And all that rankled Arnold. In truth, Arnold was his own worst enemy; off the battlefield he lacked all the virtues that Washington worked so hard to maintain: he was tactless, he was inarticulate, he tended to erupt in rage, and he had a particular knack for poisoning relationships that he should have cultivated. At a battle like Saratoga, he could be everywhere, and see the key to winning the battle, and fearlessly execute a plan, but he could not be humble after the battle. Arnold was a better tactician, at least early in the war, but unlike Washington, he did not learn or grow. And the differences between Arnold and Washington went far deeper. Washington, despite the typical view of him as some sort of marble statue, was a man full of love and empathy. He was a man who would gladly die rather than betray a friend. His relations with his staff were fatherly. When Hamilton and Washington had a falling out late in the war, I chuckled at the description of it, because it was so much like that which every father has experienced with a teenage son, and of course, ultimately Hamilton and Washington were famously reunited because each deeply appreciated the talents of the other, and there was real affection between them. Washington's love for LaFayette was explicitly like that of a father for a son. When Washington had arguments with others, they were never explosive, but rather tensely civil, and in almost all cases, the parties were either reunited in friendship, or the other person apologized to Washington, as Conway ultimately did. Arnold lacked the empathy gene, apparently. Philbrick also speculates that he was a narcissist; so it is not always the case that narcissists are physical cowards, like our most recent president. A similar case is MacArthur, who was apparently without fear on the battlefield, but who followed no opinion but his own, and famously struggled to follow orders. There is strong evidence that his wife, Peggy, goaded Arnold into treason for profit, but really, it did not take much to induce Arnold to pursue money in preference to duty and honor. And, like any good narcissist, he wrote a letter to Washington after his betrayal, self-referential in the extreme, justifying his actions in the attempted sale of West Point. It's a shame Philbrick did not continue his history to Yorktown, but that final year is well documented elsewhere. The author asserts that Benedict Arnold's treason helped unite the Americans in that final year, by showing them how easily everything could be lost, and that sounds right. By the way, the Hudson River is a key character in this history; Philbrick does an excellent job explaining its significance to the War of Independence. N.B., having lived beside that truly majestic river for four years, I enjoyed reading about its role in the Revolution, even though I knew a good deal about it already. One interesting tidbit I learned about Washington was that he had a peculiar heel-to-toe walk, ingrained from his years of backwoods fighting in the French and Indian wars, and he had never lost the habit. Nathaniel Philbrick has written a lively page-turner of a history, and I highly recommend this book.

Nathaniel Philbrick is one of my favorite non-fiction writers, and this title did not disappoint. Going in, I must admit I knew almost nothing of Benedict Arnold beyond his status as a byword for traitor. Philbrick portrays a remarkably consistent Arnold in which the character traits that led him to battlefield heroics also led him to give up the cause for which he had sacrificed. I enjoyed the interwoven storylines and the historical backdrop in which Washington, the Howe brothers, and others made the choices they did. I wish there had been a longer ending that told more of Arnold's service in the British army.