"He slammed hard into the turning wheel, but managed to grab hold of one of the wet wooden spokes. Wrapping his body around the soggy wood, he rose high in the air, then swung upside down as the wheel turned, disappearing underwater. Seconds later he burst up with the wheel, dripping and smiling. As he rose for another spin, he turned toward the line of people outside the mill. The boys grinned with admiration; the adults were in shock. The best part: they were all looking at him."
When Benedict Arnold was just ten-years-old he made a spectacle of himself in front of a crowd of people with this daring stunt. Taking a wild ride on a spinning mill waterwheel was not the young boy's initial encounter with a prank. The key element here, however, is not the risk, but the reaction. At a very early age, Arnold learned how to make himself the center of attention. By adulthood, he had mastered the art of making himself the spectacle. This act of derring-do is a seminal moment in the development of the future traitor's personality. In the world of today, it may well be that Benedict Arnold might be diagnosed with some mental health disorder. Throughout the book are multiple examples—as both a child and an adult—of Arnold engaging in questionable behavior seemingly for little other purpose than to become the center of attention or unnecessarily initiating dramatic conflict. The only thing that seems to matter to him during these moments is recreating the thrill of the best part of this moment from his childhood. He is portrayed as a man who never tired of people looking at him until those people started to see him solely as a villain.
"There was no word from Gates, no note of thanks to Arnold, or inquiry about his health. But there was plenty of news about Gates. Congress voted to strike a special medal just for the hero of Saratoga, awarding it to Gates with the resolution, `Your name, sir, will be written in the breasts of the grateful Americans and sent down to posterity.' Arnold also heard that members of Congress and their wives were learning a new dance called the Burgoyne Surrender."
While the name Benedict Arnold has become synonymous with treason against America, the fact is that he was well on his way to becoming one of the greatest heroes of the Revolutionary War. This quote centers around the consequences of Benedict Arnold not receiving just recognition for his leadership during the Battle of Saratoga. The surrender of the British General Burgoyne was a momentous moment for the colonists in a war that had actually seen very few unquestioned victories. Benedict Arnold was instrumental in that victory but clashed with General Horatio Gates. Gates received all the acclaim and glory despite not being singularly deserving. For a man who loved the spotlight of being recognized for accomplishments more than anything, it almost seems inevitable that Arnold would turn against his former comrades and become a traitor to the cause to which he was once so committed.
"The perfect scapegoat for an angry public, Arnold was hissed at in theaters, attacked in newspapers. Influential people ignored him. When the war ended, Arnold's sister Hannah brought his sons to Britain, and Arnold was able to get them commissioned as officers in the British army. But decent jobs in the government or military were closed to him."
After turning traitor against his former comrades, Arnold eventually fled to England. At first, he was warmly received by none other than King George III. Arnold was one of the few who still believed that the British could retain control of the colonies through a long war of attrition. Unfortunately for both men, this perspective was not one widely shared. When official recognition of the United States as an independent nation arrived courtesy of the 1793 Treaty of Paris, Benedict Arnold became a traitor to his old country and a symbol of the widespread unpopularity of the war among the British citizenry in his adopted home. The vitriol spewed toward him in public and the machinations taking place in private to deny him any opportunity for a comfortable life reflect the vagaries of fate. If Arnold had been treated more respectfully by certain other leaders of the Continental Army, he might well have been elected President one day. If the British had won the war instead of being sent home in humiliation, he might well have become a national hero in England. With neither of those outcomes in place, fate instead set him on the path of infamy which seems likely to be attached to his name forever.
