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Chapter 5: A Benedictine Excursion
Arnold was raised by a talented businessman of a father, who derailed following the deaths of his siblings - and, seemingly because God hated Benedict Arnold with the fiery passion He used in smiting the Egyptians, the alcoholic nature of his father drove his family destitute and left Arnold to be apprenticed by family friends. In business, Arnold excelled, but he was a simple sort of man: a materialistic one, and due to this he eventually became bankrupt; not helping his case was the fact that rumors spread of his bankruptcy, furthering his loss of profits. This was the stem of his desire for promotion - which, in a normal situation, brought with it higher pay as well as fame.
However, this was far from a normal situation.
"The Congress is so in the shit they could hardly pay for a pebble on this street" Arnold mumbled to himself; the ride to the headquarters of Continental General Ward was as long as it was bumpy, but it gave Arnold time to process things. Again and again, he had to reaffirm to himself that his wife was dead. She was dead now. She had died while he was in Ticonderoga. Damn Ticonderoga. Arnold was adamant that he had done just as much - no, more than Allen in aiding the British surrender at Ticonderoga. Everything went well there because of him. Yet here he was, promoted with Allen like that filthy bastard wasn't an attention-grubbing little-
This monologue continued in his mind as he entered to speak with Continental General Ward. The imposing head of the army, still recovering from illness, was somewhat of weaker constitution than one would expect of the head of such important matters; despite his illness, though, Ward remained cunning and able to assist in all manners (except physically, for the time being). When Arnold approached, Ward seemed to tense a bit, before simply stating "I hope this has nothing to do with your promotions, or whatever occurred in Ticonderoga."
Swallowing his pride, Arnold shook his head. "No, sir, it has naught to do with Ticonderoga; instead, I would wish to request a division of men."
"Where to and for?"
"To Quebec, in order to liberate the province from Britain and to increase our support, sir. I have information leading me to believe there be less than a thousand-odd men in the entirety of the province, and those estimates are generous, sir. I am confident in my ability to prove myself in this theater, sir."
Ward paused, thinking, before continuing: "How will these men get there?"
"We deploy from Newburyport, in Massachusetts; from there we migrate north into Maine, and station camp along the Kennebec River; preferably in any fort stationed along this river, sir. There we will station for a fortnight, and then continue into the Province. I am told that investigation has already been done in terms of what is in Quebec, sir?"
"Yes, and there are troops who are going to head into the Province soon, I trust you will be able to cooperate?" stated Ward, seemingly not forgetting about Ticonderoga.
"Yes, sir."
It was by some miracle that Ward let Arnold fulfill his campaign; perhaps it was out of pity, or perhaps it was because the British efforts in the Northern colonies were still lacking, and that the Patriots needed to take as much as they could before Lord North came to his senses. Regardless, here Arnold was, commanding a thousand-plus men.
---
The weather in Maine was not pleasant, and many feared that the weather in Quebec would be worse yet. Despite this, Arnold seemed convinced that his movements into the Province was some form of divine order, for every day he attempted to motivate his troops into continuing their expedition northward. His conversations with his other Quebec-bound compatriots showed that Arnold was beginning to slow the war effort down. It was on one of these days that a messenger hurried into camp, before announcing that "The British are attempting to recapture Fort Ticonderoga! They have been held off so far, but those in charge of overseeing the protection of the Fort fear that their defenses will crack.
Arnold was horrified: Ticonderoga was a decisive location, and such a location was far from an ideal thing for the British to have over the Americans. As such, he begrudgingly informed his fellow collaborators of his departure, and moved to the Grants. Arnold's forces, able to protect Ticonderoga without major difficulty, were now several states off from where they wanted to be. Arnold, in a moment of clarity, asked for a map, and simply said "We will go to Detroit."
The movement of Arnold's troops was purposeful - attack the British forts through the practically empty Ontario Peninsula, perhaps deal with several Indian villages, regroup and then go for Fort Detroit. Instead, the American forces were repelled from Fort Frontenac, before marching to Fort Douville. There, Arnold was able to overpower the undermanned fort. He marched next to Fort Niagara, which proved itself too heavily guarded to capitulate. From Niagara, he moved his troops into the wilderness of Ontario, where he forced them to set up camp for a couple weeks.
This period seemed to bring a better sentiment out of Arnold. He contributed on hunting excursions, shared stories with his troops in the evenings, helped devise the arrangements of the fort, appropriately becoming the future capital city of Ontario, Arnold (approximately the location of Chatham-Kent in real life). In his own journals, he wrote "I feel a weight off of my Shoulders - out in the Wilderness I am a New Man; I have no Debts, I have no Rank, I am a man with men." It was this new, friendlier Arnold who pushed his troops to Detroit, before recruiting a local band of sympathetic Indians and marching back to Fort Niagara, this time winning. From there, Arnold raised several Iroquois settlements - distinctly ones of those tribes who joined the British. From there his men marched to Fort Presque Isle.
Following the annexation of Fort Presque Isle, Arnold dismissed a majority of his unit. Assigning Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Enos in command of these troops, he reportedly said "Do with these men whatever is best for freedom - my men and I will continue liberation to the best of our God-given abilities; we know not how many forts lay in the Ohio Country, but there may be Brits in there yet.
---
It was a cloudy day for Continental General Ward. In the year that had passed, his health had improved greatly, and he had again returned to a physical presence to his troops; this coincided well with the increased British war effort in the Colonies, and further allowed Ward to correspond with foreign generals such as Lafayette and von Steuben, both tasked their own troops and were responsible for creating a consistent training regime for the rookie American troops.
From his quarters, he heard a knock. He hesitated for a moment, but finally opened the door.
A familiar, albeit haggard, fellow approached. He had a beard, tangled hair, and his clothes a hodgepodge of British and American elements. He walked with a limp and in one hand he gripped a long stick - presumably used for a cane.
"Ah, Continental General Ward. I would wish to report a new American fort, sir."
"And this may be?"
"Good Lord, have I changed that much?" he laughed a good, long laugh. "Benedict Arnold, sir. Do you wish to share a beer? I can show you the location of this fort."
"I heard last that you became a wildman out in the Ohio, Arnold."
"Aye, so you did, so you did. I would damn say 'wildman' is a harsh word, but say it they shall."
"So, what is this fort?"
"A great location, I assure you. It's perfectly 'long the Maumee River, only a short ride 'way from Lake Erie - I named it Fort Margaret."
"I see, I see. Tell me more of your 'wildman' expeditions in the Interior."
"It would be my pleasure, Ward. Say, sir?"
"Yes?"
"What's that bastard Allen up to these days?"
---
A/N: Welp, this chapter came out really nice! I'm proud with how everything came out with it, and it's solidly a lot longer than I expected!
Chapter 5:
A Benedictine Excursion
---
"And O Colonel Arnold, praise the Liberator of our land!"
-Line from Praise Ontario, the state anthem of Ontario.
"That goddamned bastard" was all Benedict Arnold had to say on the affair - this being the Capture of Fort Ticonderoga. Colonel Arnold was forced to cooperate with Commander Ethan Allen of the Green Mountain Boys - a group of individuals who wished to see the independence of the Grants: a region of conflicting claims between New York and New Hampshire. Although the two men were vastly different, they were similar in one front - their undying need for recognition; although Arnold was not sure as to what Allen wanted with wealth and fame and notoriety (other than to, obviously, spite him), Arnold sure as hell knew why he needed it.A Benedictine Excursion
---
"And O Colonel Arnold, praise the Liberator of our land!"
-Line from Praise Ontario, the state anthem of Ontario.
Arnold was raised by a talented businessman of a father, who derailed following the deaths of his siblings - and, seemingly because God hated Benedict Arnold with the fiery passion He used in smiting the Egyptians, the alcoholic nature of his father drove his family destitute and left Arnold to be apprenticed by family friends. In business, Arnold excelled, but he was a simple sort of man: a materialistic one, and due to this he eventually became bankrupt; not helping his case was the fact that rumors spread of his bankruptcy, furthering his loss of profits. This was the stem of his desire for promotion - which, in a normal situation, brought with it higher pay as well as fame.
However, this was far from a normal situation.
"The Congress is so in the shit they could hardly pay for a pebble on this street" Arnold mumbled to himself; the ride to the headquarters of Continental General Ward was as long as it was bumpy, but it gave Arnold time to process things. Again and again, he had to reaffirm to himself that his wife was dead. She was dead now. She had died while he was in Ticonderoga. Damn Ticonderoga. Arnold was adamant that he had done just as much - no, more than Allen in aiding the British surrender at Ticonderoga. Everything went well there because of him. Yet here he was, promoted with Allen like that filthy bastard wasn't an attention-grubbing little-
This monologue continued in his mind as he entered to speak with Continental General Ward. The imposing head of the army, still recovering from illness, was somewhat of weaker constitution than one would expect of the head of such important matters; despite his illness, though, Ward remained cunning and able to assist in all manners (except physically, for the time being). When Arnold approached, Ward seemed to tense a bit, before simply stating "I hope this has nothing to do with your promotions, or whatever occurred in Ticonderoga."
Swallowing his pride, Arnold shook his head. "No, sir, it has naught to do with Ticonderoga; instead, I would wish to request a division of men."
"Where to and for?"
"To Quebec, in order to liberate the province from Britain and to increase our support, sir. I have information leading me to believe there be less than a thousand-odd men in the entirety of the province, and those estimates are generous, sir. I am confident in my ability to prove myself in this theater, sir."
Ward paused, thinking, before continuing: "How will these men get there?"
"We deploy from Newburyport, in Massachusetts; from there we migrate north into Maine, and station camp along the Kennebec River; preferably in any fort stationed along this river, sir. There we will station for a fortnight, and then continue into the Province. I am told that investigation has already been done in terms of what is in Quebec, sir?"
"Yes, and there are troops who are going to head into the Province soon, I trust you will be able to cooperate?" stated Ward, seemingly not forgetting about Ticonderoga.
"Yes, sir."
It was by some miracle that Ward let Arnold fulfill his campaign; perhaps it was out of pity, or perhaps it was because the British efforts in the Northern colonies were still lacking, and that the Patriots needed to take as much as they could before Lord North came to his senses. Regardless, here Arnold was, commanding a thousand-plus men.
---
The weather in Maine was not pleasant, and many feared that the weather in Quebec would be worse yet. Despite this, Arnold seemed convinced that his movements into the Province was some form of divine order, for every day he attempted to motivate his troops into continuing their expedition northward. His conversations with his other Quebec-bound compatriots showed that Arnold was beginning to slow the war effort down. It was on one of these days that a messenger hurried into camp, before announcing that "The British are attempting to recapture Fort Ticonderoga! They have been held off so far, but those in charge of overseeing the protection of the Fort fear that their defenses will crack.
Arnold was horrified: Ticonderoga was a decisive location, and such a location was far from an ideal thing for the British to have over the Americans. As such, he begrudgingly informed his fellow collaborators of his departure, and moved to the Grants. Arnold's forces, able to protect Ticonderoga without major difficulty, were now several states off from where they wanted to be. Arnold, in a moment of clarity, asked for a map, and simply said "We will go to Detroit."
The movement of Arnold's troops was purposeful - attack the British forts through the practically empty Ontario Peninsula, perhaps deal with several Indian villages, regroup and then go for Fort Detroit. Instead, the American forces were repelled from Fort Frontenac, before marching to Fort Douville. There, Arnold was able to overpower the undermanned fort. He marched next to Fort Niagara, which proved itself too heavily guarded to capitulate. From Niagara, he moved his troops into the wilderness of Ontario, where he forced them to set up camp for a couple weeks.
This period seemed to bring a better sentiment out of Arnold. He contributed on hunting excursions, shared stories with his troops in the evenings, helped devise the arrangements of the fort, appropriately becoming the future capital city of Ontario, Arnold (approximately the location of Chatham-Kent in real life). In his own journals, he wrote "I feel a weight off of my Shoulders - out in the Wilderness I am a New Man; I have no Debts, I have no Rank, I am a man with men." It was this new, friendlier Arnold who pushed his troops to Detroit, before recruiting a local band of sympathetic Indians and marching back to Fort Niagara, this time winning. From there, Arnold raised several Iroquois settlements - distinctly ones of those tribes who joined the British. From there his men marched to Fort Presque Isle.
Following the annexation of Fort Presque Isle, Arnold dismissed a majority of his unit. Assigning Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Enos in command of these troops, he reportedly said "Do with these men whatever is best for freedom - my men and I will continue liberation to the best of our God-given abilities; we know not how many forts lay in the Ohio Country, but there may be Brits in there yet.
---
It was a cloudy day for Continental General Ward. In the year that had passed, his health had improved greatly, and he had again returned to a physical presence to his troops; this coincided well with the increased British war effort in the Colonies, and further allowed Ward to correspond with foreign generals such as Lafayette and von Steuben, both tasked their own troops and were responsible for creating a consistent training regime for the rookie American troops.
From his quarters, he heard a knock. He hesitated for a moment, but finally opened the door.
A familiar, albeit haggard, fellow approached. He had a beard, tangled hair, and his clothes a hodgepodge of British and American elements. He walked with a limp and in one hand he gripped a long stick - presumably used for a cane.
"Ah, Continental General Ward. I would wish to report a new American fort, sir."
"And this may be?"
"Good Lord, have I changed that much?" he laughed a good, long laugh. "Benedict Arnold, sir. Do you wish to share a beer? I can show you the location of this fort."
"I heard last that you became a wildman out in the Ohio, Arnold."
"Aye, so you did, so you did. I would damn say 'wildman' is a harsh word, but say it they shall."
"So, what is this fort?"
"A great location, I assure you. It's perfectly 'long the Maumee River, only a short ride 'way from Lake Erie - I named it Fort Margaret."
"I see, I see. Tell me more of your 'wildman' expeditions in the Interior."
"It would be my pleasure, Ward. Say, sir?"
"Yes?"
"What's that bastard Allen up to these days?"
---
A/N: Welp, this chapter came out really nice! I'm proud with how everything came out with it, and it's solidly a lot longer than I expected!
- Oliveia
- Word Count: 1.5k