American History Tellers - Traitors | Treason of the Blackest Dye | 1

Episode Date: November 3, 2021

Early in the Revolutionary War, Major General Benedict Arnold built a reputation as a courageous commander. He was a favorite of George Washington’s. But he also revealed a fragile ego and a penchant for holding grudges. As the war went on, Arnold’s temper, ambition, and greed would turn him from hero to villain.In this four-part series, American History Tellers explores the stories of America’s most infamous traitors -- the men and women who were charged, rightly or wrongly, with betraying their country. All of them paid a high price for their crimes. And all of them changed the course of our nation’s history -- starting with the man whose name is now synonymous with treason: Benedict Arnold.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's the evening of September 22nd, 1777. You're a general in the Continental Army. You squint in the dim candlelight inside your tent as you examine maps and battle plans. You're near the hamlet of Saratoga in New York, trying to stop the British from seizing control of the Hudson Valley. It's a strategically vital region,

and the future of the American cause depends on you holding it. Oh, there you are. I must speak to you. You look up from your desk to see Major General Benedict Arnold barging into your tent. He's one of your second in command, though his ego is so big he seems to think he's in charge of the entire Continental Army. I think you mean, sir, General, I must speak with you. You see Arnold roll his eyes and steel yourself for what is sure to be yet another argument. What is it this time, Arnold? The report you sent to Congress about the battle at Freeman's Farm. Yes, and what of it? I heard you failed to mention my part in leading the action.

That wasn't relevant. If it weren't bad enough that you weakened my left wing by taking my best soldiers from me, now you're robbing me of the credit. Arnold, do I need to remind you who is in command here? You are, sir. You remind me of that every chance you get. But if you would listen to me just this once. Arnold approaches your desk and points to the maps in front of you. I have a few ideas about our next attack. Let me show you. I don't need your ideas, Arnold. We're fighting smart, focusing on our defenses. Defenses? We need to attack. We're not going to win this war until we carry the fight to the British. General Arnold, you are impetuous, and that is why you are not in charge. Arnold kicks a table leg, his face red with anger. Sir, that is my furniture. Compose yourself. Arnold takes a deep breath, then switches tactics.

If you won't listen to my advice or give me credit for my victories, then I would like a pass to go to Philadelphia and join General Washington. It's quite possible that he might appreciate my skills. You can tell he's certain you'll say no, believing he's essential to the fight here. But you don't care how skilled of a soldier he is. You have had enough of his ego. Well, of course.

You're free to go. Arnold glares at you wordlessly. Then storms out of your tent. You clench your fists in frustration. This is a familiar scene, with him threatening to quit and you accepting his resignation. But like a bad penny, he always comes back. At this point, you're not sure you could get rid of Arnold if you tried. You know many consider Arnold a hero, but you can't get past how thin-skinned he is. You're afraid his

brash, selfish actions may someday doom your chances of winning this war. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle of sriracha that's living in your fridge? Or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly? Introducing The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products

you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Nick. And this is Jack. And we just launched a brand new podcast called The Best Idea Yet. You may have heard of it. It's all about the untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history. Your story. On our show, we'll take you to the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans. Our values, our struggles, and our dreams.

We'll put you in the shoes of everyday people as history was being made, and we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now. In September 1777, the Continental Army was waging a critical battle against British forces near Saratoga, New York. The Americans knew a victory could change the course of the war for independence. But Major General Benedict Arnold was waging his own personal battle. He was desperate to get recognition for his sacrifices and repeatedly clashed with his superiors. During the Saratoga Campaign, Benedict Arnold built a reputation as a courageous commander. But he also revealed a fragile ego. As the war went on, Arnold's temper, ambition,

and greed led him down a path that would end in one of the most vilified acts of treason in American history. In this series, we'll explore the stories of America's most infamous traitors, the men and women who were charged, rightly or wrongly, with betraying their country. Some were motivated by greed and personal ambition, others by loftier ideals. All of them paid a high price for their crimes, and all of them changed the course of our nation's history. Loyalty to the nation has always been a prized American value,

but it was never more crucial than at our country's birth when America was fighting the world's most powerful empire, and freedom and liberty were on the line. To this day, no American traitor is more notorious than our nation's first, Benedict Arnold. This is Episode 1, Treason of the Blackest Die. Benedict Arnold was born in Norwich, Connecticut in 1741 to a distinguished New England family. His great-grandfather was one of the founders of Rhode Island, and his father was a sea captain and successful merchant. From an early age, Arnold was brave, boisterous, and ambitious, with a hot temper and a strong sense of personal honor. He was a natural leader among his friends, quick to pick fights and always defending the younger boys against the older and stronger ones.

But Arnold's childhood was marred by tragedy. When he was just 12, Norwich was hit by a diphtheria epidemic, and two of his sisters died. Crushed by their deaths, Arnold's father began drinking heavily, and his business suffered. The family faced bankruptcy and could no longer afford Arnold's expensive private boarding school. He returned home only to discover that gossip was spreading about his family's hardships. Arnold was ashamed to have to leave school and humiliated by his father's alcoholism and financial failure, which stood in glaring contrast to his family's storied reputation. The experience drove him to pursue honor at any cost. He craved nothing more than

to restore the respect and renown that his family's name had lost. When Arnold was a teenager, he became an apprentice at an apothecary, then fought briefly in a militia unit in the French and Indian War. In 1761, at the age of 20, he moved to New Haven, Connecticut to open his own apothecary shop. There he met and married a woman named Margaret. Together they would have three sons. And within a few years, Arnold left the apothecary business and began captaining his own ships in the West Indies, trading Connecticut farm goods for sugar, rum, and molasses.

The 1760s were a time of escalating tensions between the American colonies and the British Parliament. As a merchant, Arnold was directly hit by the increasingly onerous British taxes. He was soon swept up in the growing spirit of revolution. In 1770, British soldiers killed five American colonists in a street fight that newspapers branded the Boston Massacre. Arnold was a fierce patriot, and he wrote to a friend about his desire for retribution, declaring, Good God, are Americans all asleep and tamely giving up their glorious liberties? He further urged to seek immediate vengeance on such miscreants. With war on the

horizon, in March 1775, Arnold was elected the captain of a Connecticut militia company. Just one month later, on April 19th, the first shots of the Revolutionary War were fired in Massachusetts at the Battle of Lexington. Arnold was eager to join the fight against British tyranny. He led his militia to Massachusetts, where he convinced local authorities to let him cross into New York and seize Fort Ticonderoga, a critical access point to Canada and the Hudson Valley that was held by the British. Arnold hoped that capturing Ticonderoga would launch his military career. But as Arnold led his men to the fort, he would discover he wasn't the only one with an assault in mind. Imagine it's the afternoon of May 9th, 1775. You're standing in the middle

of a field in Shoreham, New York, with your ragtag militia unit, the Green Mountain Boys. You're preparing an attack on the British at Fort Ticonderoga. But there's a wrench in your plans. A soldier named Benedict Arnold has arrived with his own militia, and he's insisting that he lead the assault. You're huddled with your second in command, trying to decide your next move. Who does this Benedict Arnold think he is, brandishing his commission at me? Your lieutenant shrugs. Well, I'll read it over. The papers are signed by the Massachusetts Provincial Congress. Everything seems to be in order. I don't care who sent him. If he thinks I'm going to relinquish my

command, he can think again. Well, he does have some gall, but it seems to me neither of you have more or less authority to lead this assault. You pace back and forth and gaze out at your men. There's about 200 in the field surrounding you, dressed in their buckskin jackets and breeches, waiting for their next orders. Some may call your Green Mountain Boys a motley group, but you know there's no militia more loyal or brave than these frontier farmers and hunters. Maybe none of us have more authority on paper, but I've got something he doesn't.

What's that? The allegiance of these men. I've had it for five years, and I'm sure if I test it now, they won't disappoint me. You look over at Arnold, who is standing a mere 20 feet away from you in his resplendent uniform,

tapping his foot impatiently. With a small smile, you call out to your men. All right, boys. By order of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress, Colonel Arnold here is going to be your new commander. But not to worry. If you follow Arnold, your pay will be just the same, $2 a day.

The men exchange confused looks and talk quietly among themselves. Then one after the other, they walk toward the edge of the clearing and stack their guns on the ground. A man who served with you since the beginning walks over and addresses you in a voice loud enough for Arnold to hear. I'm sorry, sir. We fight for no man except you.

Your chest swells with pride at their show of protest. You turn to your rival. Well, Arnold, it looks like you can't lead this charge without me. You turn to your rival. Well, Arnold, it looks like you can't lead this charge without me. You can tell Arnold is fuming, but he has no choice. He walks towards you,

his arms outstretched in a gesture of peace. You flash your lieutenant a satisfied smirk, pleased to have put this newcomer in his place. Maybe now you can put aside your differences

and join forces against your common enemy, the British. Ethan Allen was a daring and rambunctious frontiersman, one of the founders of Vermont and the leader of the Green Mountain Boys, a small but tough militia. On May 9th, 1775, Allen convinced Benedict Arnold to agree to a joint command for the assault on Fort

Ticonderoga. Working together in an uneasy alliance, the two militias successfully captured the British fort. Arnold emerged from the battle with a newly minted reputation as a zealous and capable military tactician, but he shared credit for the victory with Alan, and he was eager to prove himself as a commander in his own right. A few weeks later, Arnold declared himself the Commodore of the Navy on Lake Champlain, just north of Ticonderoga. When a Continental Army officer questioned the self-styled title, Arnold responded by assaulting him.

Arnold never grew out of his childhood sensitivity to criticism and ridicule. It would not be the last time he feuded with fellow officers over a perceived slight. Then the next month, in June, Arnold received the devastating news that his wife had died. His children went into the care of his sister, Hannah. He was eager to return to the battlefield to distract himself from his grief, but soon he received even more bad news. That same month, the Continental Congress authorized an invasion of Canada. Arnold was one of the main voices urging the plan, and he had his eyes set on leading the assault. But Congress had placed the wealthy Landover, Philip Schuyler,

in charge instead. Still, Arnold did not give up. In August, he met with the Continental Army's new commander, General George Washington, and convinced him to let him lead a separate, smaller expedition for an assault on Quebec City. In September, Arnold began a grueling two-month trek, marching 1,100 men through heavy snow in the rugged Maine wilderness. By the time they reached Quebec in mid-November, roughly half of the soldiers had fallen ill, deserted, or died. On New Year's Eve, Arnold and his remaining men met up with other Continental forces and launched a daring two-pronged assault on Quebec City. The attack ended in defeat, with Arnold getting

wounded in his left leg. But his superiors were impressed with his brave leadership and determination during the grueling trek to Canada. In a letter to Congress, General Schuyler declared, Colonel Arnold's march does him great honor. Some future historian will make it the subject of admiration to his readers. Arnold's tough resolve during the main trek also won him General Washington's respect. Washington wrote that it was fresh proof of Arnold's ability and perseverance in the midst of difficulties. Washington knew firsthand the challenges of marching troops through arduous winter conditions. As the war went on, Arnold would remain one of Washington's

favorite generals. And in January 1776, Arnold was promoted to brigadier general. Still, he felt that he had not been adequately rewarded for his valor and sacrifices. To prove himself, he continued fighting heroically through the rest of the year. Most notably, he helped delay a British invasion of New York at Lake Champlain in October. But despite his efforts, in February 1777, Congress denied him a promotion to major general, passing him over for five officers junior to him. When Washington heard the news, he petitioned Congress on Arnold's behalf, declaring that there was no more active, spirited, nor sensible officer in the Army. But the decision stuck.

Arnold was furious to be passed over. He submitted his resignation, complaining of Congress's ingratitude. Washington persuaded him to stay on, however, and in May, Congress finally gave Arnold the promotion he craved. But still, he was not satisfied. The date of the promotion left him junior to the five officers promoted over him in February. As a result, he was determined to prove himself superior to them and cement his reputation once and for all. In the fall of 1777, Arnold would get his chance.

The Battle of Saratoga would be a turning point for the war and for Benedict Arnold. That September, the British concentrated their ranks in the Hudson River Valley in upstate New York, near the hamlet of Saratoga. The Hudson River separated New England from the rest of the colonies. The British hoped that by gaining control of the river and its valley, they could isolate New England and bring the war to an end. Washington sent Arnold to the Hudson Valley to lead troops against the British advance under General Horatio Gates. During the Battle of Freeman's Farm on September 19th, Arnold and Gates fought bitterly over strategy. A few days later, Arnold accused Gates of denying him credit for his achievements during the battle and complained about Gates stripping troops from his command. Finally, General Gates grew tired of Arnold's insubordinate outbursts and ordered the hot-headed Major General to stay in his quarters. But Arnold was not about to stand down. On October 7th,

he disobeyed Gates' orders. He rounded up a detachment, drove back advancing British troops, and captured an enemy stronghold. But his victory came at great personal cost. During the charge, a bullet struck Arnold's left leg, shattering his thigh bone. It was the same leg that had been injured earlier in the war, and the damage to it would prove to be debilitating. Another bullet struck his horse, killing it and trapping Arnold underneath. Pinned to the ground, Arnold continued to shout orders, yelling, Rush on, my brave boys! The pain was so excruciating that he told a fellow soldier he wished the bullet had hit his heart. But Arnold's charge helped the Americans gain the upper hand.

Ten days later, the British forces surrendered. The Saratoga Campaign breathed new life into the American cause. It was a key factor in helping convince the French to ally with the Americans against the British. And for Arnold, it was a chance to claim the glory he so desperately sought. But in the aftermath of Saratoga, Arnold was forced to recuperate from his wounds in a military hospital. As he lay in bed, recovering, he was overcome with a nagging sense that his contributions were again not being recognized. As the months wore on, his anger and resentment festered. Arnold felt he had earned the right to more. More authority, more influence, and more wealth.

And if his young country would not give him those things, he was ready to seize them for himself. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is the Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses, and specific instructions

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and Arnold's doctors were uncertain whether amputation might be necessary. As he suffered through the pain, his temper grew worse than ever. One doctor observed that Arnold was very peevish and impatient under his misfortunes. And the long days in the hospital gave him plenty of time to stew over the injustices he felt he had suffered. On November 4th, Arnold was one of three generals Congress officially thanked for their brave efforts in support of the cause of independence. But the highest praise was reserved for Horatio Gates,

the general with whom Arnold had fought over strategy. Congress cast a gold medal to reward Gates' service, dedicating it to the gallant leader. But there was no doubt in Arnold's mind who the real leader was. The day Arnold was struck by a bullet, Gates had not even left his tent. For him, it was yet another insult to the many sacrifices Arnold had made for the Revolution. Besides his leg injury, Arnold was struggling to support his three motherless children. He had given up his lucrative business in New Haven to fight in the war, depriving him of his main source of income. And like many officers in the Continental Army, Arnold had spent his own money to feed and clothe his soldiers. He hoped

to be reimbursed by Congress, but that body had no authority to tax citizens and was in dire financial straits. Then, in late November, Congress finally gave Arnold a new commission that restored his seniority among the Continental Army's major generals. But still, he was frustrated that his commission made no mention of his battlefield heroics. He resented what he saw as the ingratitude of the men in Congress, who never saw battle themselves. Still, Arnold did receive public admiration. In May 1778, he returned to New Haven to a hero's welcome, with a parade and a 13-gun salute, and General George Washington continued to hold him in high esteem. That same month, Washington gave him a set of epaulets and an ornamental tassel for his sword.

In a letter to accompany the gift, Washington urged Arnold not to threaten his recovery by returning to the field too soon. With Arnold's leg still healing, Washington wanted to find another place for him in the war effort. In June 1778, British forces evacuated Philadelphia after an eight-month occupation. As soon as they left, Washington appointed Arnold as the city's military commander. Arnold arrived, finding Philadelphia was a divided city. On the one side were the radical patriots who drew support from the city's working class. On the other side were the many British sympathizers who had benefited under the occupation and earned the resentment and distrust of the patriots.

But Arnold had little interest in the city's complex politics, and he possessed none of the diplomatic skills or tact that his new job demanded. Instead, he quickly struck up a lavish lifestyle, taking residence in a stately home previously occupied by a British general. He threw parties, attended the theater, and paraded around town in an ornate carriage. In a time of war against the British monarchy, many deemed such aristocratic luxuries unpatriotic. But after years on the

battlefield, Arnold now had a new goal, gaining acceptance in Philadelphia high society. That summer, he fell in love with Peggy Shippen, an 18-year-old socialite from a wealthy family who was half his age. Peggy's family held loyalist sentiments, and her father hosted British officers in his home during the war. But Peggy was beautiful, accomplished, and educated. For Arnold, winning over Peggy and her aristocratic family would give him the status he had been searching for since his family's fall from grace when he was a child. But Arnold struggled to afford the luxuries Peggy was accustomed to. In 1778, he was three years into military services,

and his finances were in dire shape. He no longer had income from his businesses, and his only property was a small house in New Haven. To support his extravagant lifestyle, Arnold often resorted to abusing his position. When he learned that a ship he had invested in was attacked by the British, he sent army wagons to New York to collect the ship's goods and bring them back to Pennsylvania. Though his actions were not illegal, his use of army equipment for personal business sparked controversy. Arnold also inserted himself into a legal dispute over a British ship seized by American privateers, siding with sailors from his home state of Connecticut over a rival group from Pennsylvania. And then, when the Connecticut sailors won the case, Arnold pocketed half the settlement for himself. City leaders soon began to raise questions about

Arnold's lavish spending, which clearly outpaced his military salary. Arnold also invited British sympathizers into his home, sparking rumors of disloyalty. His actions inevitably would draw powerful enemies. Joseph Reed was the president of the Pennsylvania Supreme Executive Council, the state's governing body. In November of 1788, Reed wrote a letter to Continental Army leaders complaining that the city's new military commander, Benedict Arnold, had entertained the wives and daughters of Loyalists. And by December, he was investigating Arnold for corruption. Reed was as combative as Arnold, and his leadership of America's most powerful state made him one of the nation's most influential politicians. Reed was determined to

flex his authority by going after Philadelphia's loyalists. And in Benedict Arnold, who entertained the wives and daughters of loyalists in his stately home, he found a perfect target. Imagine it's a bitterly cold night in February 1779. You're meeting with a fellow member of the Pennsylvania Supreme Executive Council at your home in Philadelphia. You and your guest are warming yourselves by the fire in your study, and you've just opened a bottle of wine, but your guest doesn't seem to be appreciating your hospitality. Oh no, no, can we keep this short? I don't enjoy making calls at this time of night,

and in the dead of winter. Paying no heed, you pour some wine for your colleague. Well, of course, but still, here. I just want to brief you on the Arnold investigation. Your colleague narrows his eyes. Oh, this again. If I had known, I would never... Please. It's important that you hear this. He's been making all sorts of backroom deals, enriching himself at the people's expense. Arnold is clearly no saint, but he's not the first officer to try to supplement his meager soldier's pay. And I can't say that I've seen especially damning evidence against him. That's exactly why we need to persuade Congress to investigate.

Because where there's smoke, there is fire. You hand your guest a piece of parchment. I've prepared a draft of potential charges against Arnold. The council member raises an eyebrow and glances down at the list. Oh, don't you think some of these accusations are a little petty? Ungracious behavior to a militiaman? How about the fact that he used his position to win the settlement for those Connecticut sailors and took a cut for himself? Oh, well, I'll admit, that incident was more egregious,

but I wonder whether your pursuit of Arnold is beginning to border on obsession. You don't take this as an insult. In fact, you expected this response. You walk over to your desk and take a letter out of a drawer. No, no, look at this. I've obtained this letter describing Arnold's use of army wagons to move his own private property. The councilman studies the letter by firelight. This is rather damning. Diverting those wagons for his own personal use, he's depriving soldiers of much-needed supplies. Precisely. We cannot let this sort of profiteering stand. This is proof that Arnold is not the great military hero he claims to be. His actions are self-serving. If anything, he's an enemy of the cause of independence.

Your colleague rubs his chin, pondering your words. Well, I see your point. I could never understand how anyone who fights in the Continental Army could stand to dine with loyalists. So we're in agreement. We can't trust such a man to lead our troops. Rumor is he's planning on marrying Peggy Shippen next month. Her father, Edward, keeps a constant rotation of Tories and British officers in his house. Yes, yes, precisely. Arnold is corrupt. He's openly favoring our enemies and undermining the revolution. This can't go on. Well, maybe you're right. Maybe we should ask Congress to investigate.

You smile and sip your wine, satisfied that you're one step closer to prosecuting the man who has been draw up eight charges of public malfeasance against Benedict Arnold. But most of the charges were based on rumors, and the Continental Congress ruled in Arnold's favor. Still, Reed refused to give up. Drawing again on his power as the head of Pennsylvania, he urged Congress to take action against Arnold if its leaders wanted to keep good relations with Reed's state. He threatened to withhold the state militia from the battlefield, as well as a number of state-owned military supply wagons. His threats paid off. In March, Congress directed General Washington to court-martial Arnold.

Arnold was furious when he received the news and promptly resigned his post as military commander of Philadelphia. But there was a bright spot in his life. The following month, he married Peggy Shibbon. Not long after, he learned that his court-martial had been delayed so that Reed could gather more evidence. Arnold was despondent. He begged General Washington to begin the trial so

he could prove his innocence, writing, Having made every sacrifice of fortune and blood, and become a cripple in the service of my country, I little expected to meet the ungrateful returns I have received from my countrymen. I have nothing left but the reputation I have gained in the army. Delay in the present case is worse than death. Arnold felt tossed aside by the country for which he sacrificed so much. He was disillusioned of the power wielded

by men like Reed and frustrated by Congress's continuing refusal to reimburse him for money he spent out of his own pocket on war expenses. Making all of it worse, he was growing pessimistic

about America's chances of victory in the ongoing war. In addition, his habit of living beyond his means had left his finances in ruins. His many debts left him looking for more money-making schemes. One appeared to Arnold soon after his wedding. His new wife Peggy introduced Arnold to one of her father's friends, a British officer named John Andre. Andre, though, was also a spy who worked closely with Britain's commander-in-chief of the American colonies, Sir Henry Clinton. With Peggy's encouragement, Arnold began corresponding with Andre in June. The pair

used coded messages, invisible ink, and a British sympathizer as a go-between. To further avoid arousing suspicion, they never met in person. All the while, Arnold maintained his close relationship with Washington, but he had lost faith in the fledgling U.S. government, which he saw as weak, ineffective, and petty. His allegiance was starting to shift, but his motives were less about ideology and more rooted in years of smoldering resentment. He also desperately needed money. So before he betrayed his country, Arnold wanted to be certain that he would be compensated for switching sides.

Over the next several months, he and André engaged in long, complicated negotiations for his payment. Then in December 1779, Arnold finally faced his long-delayed court-martial. When he took the stand, he insisted, My time, my fortune, and my person have been devoted to my country in this war. And in January, he was cleared of all but two minor charges. But as punishment, the court recommended that Arnold be publicly reprimanded. General George Washington reluctantly delivered

the rebuke, calling Arnold's actions imprudent and improper. Arnold felt betrayed and humiliated. He felt he had given everything to his country, and now even his old ally Washington had tarnished his reputation and honor. It left him more determined than ever to switch sides and get his revenge. I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into

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A ballistic missile threat has been detected inbound to your area. Your phone buzzes and you look down to find this alert. What do you do next? Maybe you're at the grocery store. Or maybe you're with your secret lover. Or maybe you're robbing a bank. Based on the real-life false alarm that terrified Hawaii in 2018, Incoming, a brand-new fiction podcast exclusively on Wondery Plus, follows the journey of a variety of characters as they confront the unimaginable. The missiles are

coming. What am I supposed to do? Featuring incredible performances from Tracy Letts, Mary Lou Henner, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Paul Edelstein, and many, many more, Incoming is a Thank you. In January 1780, American soldiers were enduring one of the harshest winters on record. Roads were frozen, and blizzards blanketed the eastern seaboard with snow. Food, firewood, and other supplies were scarce, leaving the Continental Army starving and shivering. Morale was at an all-time low, and victory seemed very far out of reach. Benedict Arnold had little reason to believe that the Americans were fighting a winning war, and he remained in desperate need of cash. His plan to switch sides and profit in the process made more sense than ever. In May 1780, he renewed contact with the British spy John Andre

and made it clear he was ready to take decisive action. They formulated a plan for Arnold to seek command of West Point, a key U.S. fort on the Hudson River. Once in charge, Arnold would hand over the fort and its 3,000 troops to the British. In return, the British would give Arnold an enormous bounty of 20,000 pounds, equal to $5 million in today's money. West Point had major strategic value. The British hoped that once they occupied it, they would control the entire Hudson Valley.

It was key to their plans to isolate New England from the rest of America. They also hoped taking the fort would undermine American morale and possibly even cause the French to abandon their support. So in late May, putting the plan in action, Arnold asked to command West Point. Despite his recent court-martial and reprimand, his reputation as a skilled general remained strong. So by summer, his superiors had agreed to give him the post. Arnold wrote to André to give him the news, telling the spy, you have only to persevere and the contest will soon be at an end. Arnold believed his plan for

West Point would bring the war to a swift conclusion and he would be on the winning side. On August 3, 1780, Arnold took command of West Point and immediately began undermining its defenses. He made certain that necessary repairs went ignored and redistributed troops and supplies to further weaken the fort. André urged an in-person meeting to make concrete plans for the handover. The British patrol boat HMS Vulture transported André from New York City to a Loyalist's house on the Hudson River. It was there, on September 21st, Arnold and Andre met in person for the first time. Arnold gave Andre detailed sketches and documents.

They plotted the takeover and discussed Arnold's compensation again. At dawn the next day, before Andre could return to the Vulture, American cannons began firing at the ship, forcing it to move down river. Andre had no choice but to return to New York City via a land route. Arnold gave the spy a safe conduct pass with the alias John Anderson. To disguise himself as a civilian, Andre exchanged his uniform for a borrowed coat and beaver hat. He stuffed the West Point sketches and documents in his stockings. The following morning, Andre was riding through the woods when his clandestine journey and the plot that had been taking shape for more than a year

came to a sudden halt. Imagine it's the morning of September 23rd, 1780. You're riding your horse across a bridge not far from Tarrytown, New York. You're one of the top spies for the Crown, and you're trying to get back to British lines, carrying plans for an assault on West Point that could deal a crushing blow to the Yankee forces. As you reach the other side of the brook and peer through the trees, you see a band of soldiers playing cards by the roadside. But you relax once you notice they're wearing the green and red coats of Hessians, the German auxiliaries fighting on the British side. You're disguised in simple tradesman's clothes, so you doubt they'll give you a second look. You there! I order you to halt! But as your horse trots past their camp,

one of the men trains his musket on you. You throw up your arms. Please, we're on the same side. What side would that be? I'm a British officer. The soldier exchanges a knowing glance with his friends, but keeps his musket raised. Well, isn't that interesting? Seeing how my friends and I fight for the Americans. Dismount. Your heart is pounding as you realize you might have made a mistake. I'm sorry, I don't understand. You're wearing a Hessian uniform. The soldier shrugs. Which I took from a Hessian. Now dismount. Don't make me ask again.

You slide off your horse, your mind racing as you try to think of an excuse. But I thought you were a Hessian. That's why I said I was a British officer. That's a lie. My name's John Anderson. I'm a civilian doing business for the Continental Army for General Benedict Arnold. You take out the pass Arnold wrote for you, showing your alias, but the man waves it aside. Now search him. Two other soldiers pat you down and rummage through your saddlebags. One of them winks at you as he takes your gold watch and some paper money. No, no, wait until General Arnold gets

word of this. The soldier in charge narrows his gaze. Oh, you're a pompous, weaselly one, aren't you? What else are you hiding? Take off your jacket. Take off your boots, too. I will do no such thing. But the soldier trains his musket on you once more. Realizing you have no other choice, you pull off your boots. And your stockings. You stand there frozen, hoping to postpone the inevitable. Another soldier shoves you down and begins removing your stockings. It's only a matter of seconds before he realizes they're stuffed with secret documents. Oh, boys, looks like we've captured ourselves a British spy.

Your eyes dart around for an escape route, but it's clear there's no way out. Here, on a country road, in just a matter of minutes, the plan you and Benedict Arnold worked so hard on has been exposed. It's a major setback for the British, and now that the Yanks have captured you, they're probably a dead man. On September 23rd, 1780, American militiamen captured John Andre. They found incriminating documents in his stockings and passed them on to their superiors.

Two days later, on September 25th, Washington sent word to Benedict Arnold that he would be passing through West Point. At this point, he had no idea of Arnold's treachery. But while Arnold was awaiting Washington's arrival at his home near the fort, a courier delivered a letter with news that a spy named John Anderson had been captured. Arnold immediately recognized the alias of John Andre, and he knew he had to make his escape. He told officials at West Point that he had business to attend to, and he would be back in an hour to

meet General Washington. Then he climbed on his horse and galloped off to the HMS Vulture, which had sailed back into the area after escaping American cannon fire. Half an hour later, Washington arrived at Arnold's house. Finding his host absent, he departed to tour West Point. He was shocked by the poor condition of the fort, not realizing that Arnold had deliberately weakened its defenses. When he returned to Arnold's house, a courier had just arrived with the West Point plans found in Andre's stocking. Washington was shocked to see that most of them were written in Arnold's hand.

Though typically reserved, Washington could not hide his sadness and anger over this betrayal by one of his favorite generals. He turned to a fellow officer and asked, who can we trust now? The following day, Washington announced Arnold's treachery to the Continental Army, calling it treason of the blackest dye. Washington offered to exchange André for Benedict Arnold, but the British refused. Within a week, André was tried as a spy and executed. Efforts to capture Arnold failed. Arnold's defection sparked widespread anger. In parades and bonfires across the country, he was burned in effigy. But Washington and other leaders of the Continental Army had greater

concerns. The war was far from over. And even though the plot to take West Point had been thwarted, the British still had the upper hand. In 1781, the Patriots were facing a major crisis. Congress was bankrupt, support for the war had plummeted, and the Continental Army was crippled by desertions. Meanwhile, Arnold had returned to the battlefield, but this time for the war had plummeted, and the Continental Army was crippled by desertions. Meanwhile, Arnold had returned to the battlefield, but this time for the British crown. The British made him a brigadier general, and throughout 1781 he commanded troops in brutal raids on American civilians. He oversaw the burning of New London, Connecticut, just south of his own hometown.

But in the summer of 1781, the tide of the war turned. American and French troops marched south to face the Redcoats in what would prove to be a series of decisive battles. Then, on October 19, 1781, the British surrendered at Yorktown, Virginia, marking the end of major combat. Arnold and his wife Peggy had little choice but to flee to England. But they soon discovered they were outcasts in British society as well. Old friends abandoned them. They were hissed at when they attended the theater. The British saw Arnold as a double traitor, since he had first fought against the British before switching sides. Arnold tried and failed to find a job in government, then launched a series of unsuccessful business ventures in Britain and Canada. He eventually received money

for his act of treason at West Point, but only five of the 20,000 pounds he demanded. After burning through that money, he and Peggy lived off his modest military pension and remained burdened by debts. In 1801, Benedict Arnold died in London at the age of 60. He was buried without military honors. If Benedict Arnold had died on the battlefield at Saratoga, he would be remembered as one of the heroes of the American Revolution. Instead, his legacy is defined by a decision to turn his back on his country. Arnold did little actual damage to the American cause, but never again would such a high-ranking official

betray the United States. His fateful act of treason, motivated by resentment and greed, became part of the legend of America's birth, and Benedict Arnold's name became forever synonymous with traitor. From Wondery, this is episode one of Traitors for American History Tellers. On the next episode, as a civil war draws to a close,

a boarding house owner named Mary Surratt takes in a famous actor named John Wilkes Booth, but soon finds herself at the center of a shocking plot to avenge the Confederacy. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens.

Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marsha Louis for Wondery. Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror.

So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities. From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily comes the new podcast The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore, exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain enthralled

to his strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery+. Join Wondery+, and The Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify.