Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2013 21:52:46 -0400
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Queering Benedict Arnold 9

Queering Benedict Arnold 9
Brooklyn: July 29, 2012
By Jake Preston


"Queering Benedict Arnold" is historical gay fiction. The story alternates between
twenty-first century scenes in which Jake Preston and Ben Arnold (a descendent)
investigate Benedict's life, and eighteenth-century scenes imagined by Jake and
Ben. Some characters and allusions hark back to "Wayward Island" (in nifty's file
on Beginnings). Jake Preston is the narrator in both works.

Most episodes are faithful to history, except for sexual encounters, which are
fictional. You should not read this story if you are a minor, or if you are offended
by explicit gay sex.

 Benedict Arnold was an American military genius who was treated unfairly by
jealous rivals while he lived. After his death, he was demonized as the archetypal
traitor in history and folklore, but he was a target of inexplicable hatred long
before his treasonable conspiracy with John André to surrender the fort at West
Point to the British. Taken as a whole, "Queering Benedict Arnold" is an attempt
to discover the origins of that hatred. Comments and suggestions welcome:
contact Jake at jemtling@gmail.com.

Chapter 9 delves into aspects of Ben's and Benedict Arnold's character. There are
no sex scenes in this chapter, but there will be in Chapter 10. I believe that
fullness of character adds to the intensity and interest of sexual episodes, so in this
chapter we are working on character.

Nifty stories are free to Readers, but donations are encouraged.

        *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *




      On Sunday morning, Ben and I went with Red and Chaim to Trinity
Church, where Red played organ and Chaim played piano. It reminded me of the
first time I heard Red Feather play a Mendelsohn prelude at the Mission Church
in Crane Lake. Trinity Brooklyn identifies itself officially as an "open and
affirming" church. The sign at the front door reads "GLBT Welcome!"

      The Pastor preached from the Sermon on the Mount: "Judge not, that you
be not judged; for you will be measured according to the same standard that you
impose on others. And why do you gawk at the mote in your brother's eye, all the
while unaware of the beam in your own eye? How can you say to your brother,
'Let me pull the mote out of your eye', when you have a beam in your own eye?"

      Midway through the sermon, we heard a commotion outside the church. It
got louder when someone started sounding off with hate-speech with a
loudspeaker. "Jesus hates gays!" "Jesus hates you!" "GLBT Die!"- that sort of
thing. The church ushers had opened the front doors to let in fresh summer air, but
closed them to block out the noise. This wasn't the first time Trinity was picketed
by sidewalk demonstrators. The Pastor reminded us of the Gay Pride mantra:
"Ignore, ignore, ignore." After the service, we encountered fifteen or twenty
people standing on the sidewalk in front of Trinity, carrying signs with the same
message. We got a laugh out of one of the signs: "Sodomites are Bottomites!"
"How strange that these hateful straights should take an anatomical interest," Ben
said. Two of the more curious signs read: "Abortion is Murder!" and "Stop
Lezzies from Killing Babies!" I hadn't heard that Lesbians needed abortions.

      "They're not very good at this, are they?" Ben said.

       "Ours is a message of love! Repent of sodomy or you'll go to hell," said
the man with the loudspeaker. He singled out churchgoers two elderly ladies as
'faggots' and 'queers'.

      "Pretend you're straight and maybe we'll let you live," Chaim muttered.

      The protest-leaders were plump white men who would have done well to
exchange their sidewalk demonstration for a gym membership. Aside on the
sidewalk, seven women and children stood silently, looking a bit abject. "I'll bet
they're abused at home," Ben said.

      "What did you think of the service, Jake?" Red asked when we walked
home.

      "The music was wonderful; the sermon was thoughtful; the sidewalk
demonstrators told me that I had come to the right place," I replied.

      We returned from church and sunned ourselves on blankets and towels in
the back yard. Benzion brought lawn chairs for himself and his wife. Sarah
prepared sandwiches and iced tea. Red helped in the kitchen. The day's New York
Times and USA Today were passed around in sections and stimulated political
discussion. It's difficult for six outspoken liberals to have a genuine debate, but
Ben found much to criticize in an article in USA Today, in an article in the left
lower corner of the front page:


KABUL, Afghanistan (AP) - The NATO military coalition in
Afghanistan says two of its service members have been killed in an
insurgent attack in the east of the country.
    The military alliance says the attack happened on Saturday but
doesn't provide further details.
    NATO also did not provide the nationalities of the dead. Most of
the troops in eastern Afghanistan are American.


      "How ironic! The Marines disappear from the news. In their place we read
of a 'military coalition' and a 'military alliance'," Ben said. "NATO has turned
cagey about the 'nationalities of the dead'. They don't want it known that most of
the dead are Americans. A mass protest at home would put an end to the pipeline
of soldiers used as fodder, just like it did in Vietnam." Ben read the last paragraph
of the article:


Saturday's deaths bring the number of international service members
killed in Afghanistan so far this month to at least 42. July 2011 saw 52
international service members killed.


"There we go again," Ben said. "'International service members' used twice, as if
they weren't almost all Americans. They stumble over cumbersome phrases:
'international service members'; 'military coalition service members'. Who talks
like that? Casualties are counted piecemeal month to month, instead of counting
corpses as the total cost of war. It's as if Associated Press and USA Today are
press agents for a government that wants to prolong the war in Afghanistan. News
editors are either lazy or lapdogs."

      "Ben needs a fresh application of ointment," I said to Chaim. "Too much
sun on his skin had made him irritable." Ben gave me a mock-grimace-a
pretended quarrel between lovers, as Sarah and Benzion saw it. Chaim returned
with the ointment. Ben lay on his right side. Chaim knelt at Ben's right and
massaged oil from his face to his torso. Sarah moved her chair behind Ben,
exchanging the idyllic view of four youthful bodies for the scars of a wounded
Marine.

      "I fear you're getting a rather horrid view of the human condition, Mrs.
Haiam," Ben said.

      "I wouldn't say 'horrid', Ben," Sarah replied. "I would say 'sacred', like
the wounds of Saint Sebastian, or Jesus. Did you know that in Salvador Dali's
paintings, Sebastian always has a wound at his left side? Usually it's an open
vein."

      "Yesterday we saw some Dali photos at the Brooklyn Museum, but none
of his paintings," I said.

      My attempt to change the subject was frustrated when Chaim's massaging
hands reached Ben's thigh. He pulled Ben's shorts down and off, baring his butt.
Sarah looked closely at the scarred flesh. The scene reminded me of times when
Red and I posed for Anna Ravitch, and sometimes fucked. On those occasions,
Mrs. Ravitch ignored the sex (or rather, took it for granted) and focused on some
technical detail like the quality of light and color, or some problem in perspective
due to in the way we positioned our bodies.

      Sarah continued: "Sebastian was a military saint, like the archangel
Michael, and like St. George and his older companion, Demetrius of
Thessalonica, eromenos and erostes in Christianized form." I wondered why
Sarah knew so much about Christian saints. "We've visited the Church of St.
George in Lod, where George was born," Sarah said. "It's not far from the airport
in Tel Aviv. In art history, Sebastian is an Apollo-figure, and Apollo is an
eromenos too, as you know from Anna Ravitch's sketch of you and Red that's
hanging above your bed in the guestroom."

	"That brings back memories," I replied.... "The lengths we went to,
posing for 'Apollo and Admetus'." Red blushed, recalling his 'Lake Ashawa'
identity as Red Feather.

	"It was worth the sacrifice," Sarah said; "such a glorious painting!" On the
day when she learned for certain that Chaim was gay and that Red was his lover,
Sarah recognized Anna Ravitch as a kindred spirit. For Sarah as for Anna, art
history conferred dignity to the gay male condition. Mrs. Ravitch gave her some
of her sketches. Every year at Hanukah, Mrs. Ravitch mailed her a new painting, a
new batch of sketches, and a book about male nudes. The Haiams lived modestly
in Brooklyn-for Benzion, a kosher butcher, was not a wealthy man; but their
house was loaded with Ravitch sketches and paintings worth thousands of
dollars-not that Sarah would ever agree to part with them.

	"Your Golgotha was Ganjigal, Lieutenant Arnold," Sarah said. Now that
Ben's body was disrobed in all its glory, she reverted to his military title.

	Ben: "September the sixth-that evening, Aziz and I were alone in Com
Central when I got a call from a Staff Sergeant in Camp Joyce with our marching
orders for the next day. We were to head south down the Kunar River Valley to
Camp Joyce. I wanted to know what our mission would be. 'Negative', the Staff
Sergeant said: 'operational security, Sir'.

      "'What shall I tell the Askars?' Aziz asked me. 'They won't like it if they
think our mission is an American secret'.

      "'Just say it's a KLE in a village somewhere near FOB Joyce.' Since our
orders were communicated by a Staff Sergeant, I figured it must be a routine
mission."

      "FOB? KLE?"  Benzion asked what these acronyms meant.

      "Forward Operations Base Joyce, otherwise known as Camp Joyce," Ben
explained. "KLE is the acronym for a 'Key Leader Engagement'.  "That's what
we call it when Marines and Askars descend on a village. The officers meet with
the village elders for tea and a chat while Marines and Askars search the village
for munitions, maps, and signs of a Taliban presence. It's the Vietnam War all
over again. During the Vietnam War, Marines and ARVN interrogated elders and
searched villages for signs of Viet Cong, without the hypocritical civility of tea-
time.  The Marines were supposed to pretend that the ARVN was in charge then,
too, even though everyone knew it wasn't true.

      "For this expedition we had sixty Askars [ANA], twenty cops [ANP],
thirteen Marines, two Army officers and a Navy Corpsman. For Aziz and me,
Sunday [September 6] was our last night together...."

      Ben's voice trailed off. His eyes assumed a 'forty-yard stare'. I moved
close to him and sat cross-legged at his shoulders. Ben squeezed my arm and held
tight. "Ben's body is inscribed with the double sorrow of Ganjigal," I said. "His
unit was betrayed by the 'Kabul Cops' and by Command at FOB Joyce, and he
lost touch with the love of his life." I kept my cool, but Benzion and Saran saw
alarm in my eyes. Never before had Ben told the story of Ganjigal. Was he on the
verge of a breakdown, or a breakthrough? Maybe he had to risk the former to
achieve the latter.

      "On Monday just after noon, we reached Camp Joyce in a convoy of eight
transport trucks. A Staff Sergeant told us that our mission was a routine KLE in
Ganjigal, a village in Ganjga Valley, two miles northeast of Camp Joyce. Later
we learned that the Ganjigal mission would be anything but routine. For months
the Askars kept an informal truce with the villagers, but this fell apart after a
firefight in Dam Dura, a village a mile from Ganjigal four days earlier [on
September 3]. An ETT [Embedded Training Team] held a (supposedly) peaceful
KLE there, but when they departed the village, the ETT took Taliban fire from the
ridge. About the same time, rockets fired from the ridge destroyed some fuel
tanks in Camp Joyce. The Ganjigal elders denied responsibility. They broadcast
their support for the Afghani Government on public radio. They requested that an
ETT come to Ganjigal to take a census of all men of military age, from which to
recruit a tribal militia that would prevent further rocket attacks. The elders also
demanded that the ANA build a new mosque in Ganjigal, to be paid for by the
Marines.

      "Aziz warned me that the elders could not be trusted. 'Ganjigal is a bad
village, it's Taliban', one of the Kabul Cops (the ANP) had told him. 'It's a point
of departure for mule-caravans that smuggle cedar planks into Pakistan and return
with munitions for the Taliban'. But the commander at FOB Joyce (Major
Williams) had already decided to send us there. 'We don't want to lose the
initiative, and we need to ensure the safety of the elders in Ganjigal', Williams
said. It was obvious that he trusted the elders. He summoned our unit for an
intelligence briefing, which turned out to be superficial and defective at every
possible level.

      "First, Major Williams said that ANA Major Talib (his Afghan
counterpart) would be in command of the mission. It would be up to Major Talib
to call for aerial or artillery support in the event of an emergency. This was
ludicrous on its face, for none of the Afghans (except for Aziz, who was never
consulted) had either the linguistic or the technical knowledge needed to call for
support. Major Talib's command was just a fiction-as was obvious from the fact
that our briefing was conducted by Williams, not by Talib, who wasn't qualified
to give a briefing. 'Whatever happened to the basic principle that a military
commander does not share command?' I whispered to Aziz. In fact the command
structure was even worse than we thought. We assumed that tactical decisions
would be made in the combat zone, as had always been the case. No one told us
that the rules of combat had changed, and command decisions would now be
made by Staff at Camp Joyce!

      "Second, Major Williams said that the Taliban were aware of our mission
and had set up ambush positions inside Ganjigal. According to military
intelligence, there were only twenty Taliban. (In the event, we were attacked by
over 150 Taliban.)

      "Third, our briefing of the terrain around Ganjigal was limited to a single
slide of a military map. It showed Ganjigal as a village located on a Wash that
branched eastward from the Kunar River, with cliffs and high ridges all the way.
The village consisted of two settlements on the north and south banks of the
Wash. We were to approach the village going east on the south side of the Wash.
'Why is the Major divulging this information?' Aziz asked me. 'The Taliban are
sure to know we'll be on the south side of the Wash!' 'Maybe they're planning a
last minute change', I replied, but that didn't happen. 'Either way, we'll be boxed
in on three sides. It's a booby-trap waiting to be sprung. Whoever planned this
mission is a military idiot'.

      "Fourth, Major Williams announced that no air support would be
dedicated to the Ganjigal mission, because the helicopters would be engaged in
another mission in a neighboring valley. 'If there's an emergency', he said, 'some
helicopters can be diverted to Ganjigal within five minutes'. Aziz and I shared a
skeptical glance. We were alarmed at Williams's complacency.

      "Fifth, there was the issue of military equipment. Toward the conclusion
of the briefing, Aziz asked Major Williams if we would have high-explosive
munitions, and smoke bombs. Williams looked at Aziz rather contemptuously, as
if he had spoken out of turn. He ignored the question about high-explosive
munitions. A Supply Sergeant told him that Camp Joyce had no conventional
smoke bombs, only Willy Peters. 'Well, there's your answer, Lieutenant Rahul',
Williams said. 'You'll have Willy Peters'. Aziz and I exchanged dark looks. We
both knew Willy Peters [white phosphorous chemicals] were outlawed by the
Geneva Convention, and could not be used unless the Major authorized them.

      "If this wasn't bad enough, the leader of the Afghan National Police
[ANP] appealed for more time to prepare his men for the mission. I didn't know
what he meant by that, since the 'Kabul Cops' (as we called them) played
paramilitary roles in ETT missions. Major Williams agreed to postpone the
Ganjigal mission to the next day.

        "'What a disaster!' I said to Aziz. 'The Major just gave the Taliban time
to strengthen their fighting force, and he gave away our position. We've got such
a bad history of intelligence leaks, it won't take the Taliban long to find out what
our plans are'. 'I'm sure they already know', Aziz replied. 'All the Afghans have
cellphones, and they chatter on them constantly. My guess is that the Taliban are
already positioning ambush sites on the south side of the Wash'.

      "In the light of a full moon, we departed FOB Joyce in a caravan of trucks
and Humvees at 0300 [3:00 AM] 'to maintain the element of surprise', the Major
said. 'Element of surprise, my ass!' I exclaimed to Aziz. 'The Taliban already
know about our mission, our numbers, our command structure (such as it is), and
our position, thanks to the Major'.

      "Aziz was more philosophical: 'With or without the Major, they would
have known everything anyway. The only way to secure these missions is to keep
the ANP out of them. It would be better for us if the Kabul Cops weren't here at
all. Even then, there's no way that a contingent of sixty chatterbox Askars can
maintain an element of surprise'.

      "'Spoken like a U.S. Marine', I replied.

      "At 0400 we left our trucks and walked for a mile on foot toward
Ganjigal. 'Ben, I have a bad feeling about Ganjigal', Aziz said. 'In case
something happens, I want you to know you're the only man I've ever loved'. We
were surrounded by Askars, so Aziz spoke in English, though at this point he
didn't much care who overheard him. I held his hand and told him I felt the same
way. At least among Afghanis, men could hold hands without calling attention to
themselves.

      "At the first light of dawn-0530-our unit took fire from the ridge just
outside Ganjigal: one or two shots at first, and then a barrage from at least a
hundred attackers, not twenty. One of the Marines ran up to me to say that he saw
women and children carrying fresh ammunition to the Taliban attackers. Aziz
appealed to Major Talib to call in a TIC."

      "What's a TIC?" Benzion asked.

      "Troops in Contact," Ben replied. "TIC was always accepted as a call for
aerial and artillery support. Little did we know that in the weeks before Ganjigal,
Army and Air Force generals had been debating about TICs in Afghanistan.
'There are too many TICs', they complained. Go figure! One general compared
TICs to the fable of the girl who called 'wolf'-primae facia a false analogy,
since every TIC on record in the Afghan War was preceded by enemy fire. There
were no false alarms, none! We should be worried about generals who can't think
logically. If there are too many TICs, that's a sign that the American strategy of
Afghanizing the Afghan War is a failure-just like Nixon's plan to 'Vietnamize'
the Vietnam War was a failure. It's not a sign that our soldiers are calling for
aerial support when they don't need it.

      "For twenty minutes we took fire from both the north and south ridges,
and from the village. We were ambushed on three sides. At 0550, General Talib
gave the word and Captain Swenson made a call to a Staff Sergeant at FOB Joyce,
requesting aerial support. This went beyond TIC: it was a specific appeal for
support. 'Sorry, no helicopters available', he was told. Captain Swenson: 'This is
unbelievable. We have a platoon [of ANA] out there and we've got no Hotel Eco.
We're pinned down!'"

      "Hotel Echo?" Benzion asked. Ben explained that 'Hotel Echo' was
military code for 'high explosive artillery shells'. 'Hotel' is H; 'Echo' is E; HE is
'high explosives'. The Marines and the Askars were outnumbered and fighting
with small arms, deprived of aerial and artillery support.

      "While all this was going on, we could see that the Taliban on the ridges
were on the move, getting into position to outflank us on the rear. Every time we
requested support, the Command at Joyce responded with a game of 'twenty
questions'-what was our position? Were there civilians in the line of fire? And
so on. 'If these jerks at Camp Joyce have no military expertise, didn't they at least
play football in high school?' I asked Aziz. Major Talib got on the phone to Major
Williams and explained the situation (through translators). 'What are you going to
do?' Talib asked Williams several times. Each time he replied 'We're getting air'.
Why did I have the feeling that Major Williams was just trying telling Talib what
he wanted to hear, to get him off the phone?

      "At 0600 a Staff Sergeant at Camp Joyce told us that helicopter support
would arrive in fifteen minutes. 0605 we made the 'combat zone' decision that
our position was untenable and we would have to retreat to the rocks. We dropped
the fiction that Major Talib and the Afghans were in charge. We also dropped the
fiction that the Staff at Camp Joyce were capable of making tactical decisions.

      "For the next 50 minutes, the command failures at Camp Joyce went from
bad to worse. The immediate issue was smoke-cover, which we needed to retreat
to safety in the rocks. Otherwise we were sitting ducks. Since we didn't have
smoke-bombs, Captain Swenson requested permission to use Willy Pete. Request
denied (several times over). He asked for aerial support. Request denied (several
times over). The Staff Sergeant at Camp Joyce was just as frustrated as Swenson,
but Swenson was never allowed to speak directly to the Major-in fact, we didn't
even know which Major was in charge at Camp Joyce! During this time, three
Marines and one Navy Corpsman were killed, along with eight Askars. At 0655,
we received permission to use Willy Pete. The Marines and Askars made a mad
dash and crowded together behind a stone wall. Our situation was still dangerous.
Crowded together, we made a target. Captain Swenson was injured in crossfire. I
was injured by a Willy Pete that boomeranged from one of the terrace walls.
That's all I remember. I was told later that I was carried to the wall by Aziz.
Blackhawk support didn't arrive until 0710, and the fighting continued for another
seven hours. I was told that Aziz took me back to Camp Joyce in a Humvee,
around 1400. That's all I know."

      "Ben, I would give you a hug if you weren't naked!" Sarah said. I tossed
Ben a beach towel and Chaim helped to wrap it around his midsection. Sarah
knelt by Ben and hugged him. "Jake tells me you've never talked about Ganjigal
before," she said. "I feel honored. We all do, Ben. But why here, and now, and
why share your story with us?"

      "Because I'm among friends who won't judge me for being damaged, or
for being gay," Ben said. "I'm glad I got Ganjigal off my chest, but still, I
probably won't talk about it again. During World War II, my grandfather fought
with the Canadian Army in Europe. He returned to Saskatchewan with a France &
Germany Star and a Conspicuous Valour Medal, but he never wore them, and he
never spoke of his years in the Army. After the Battle of Ganjigal, I understood
why."

      "So it was friendly fire, then, the cause of your injuries," Benzion said. He
changed the subject himself: "Ben, I'm impressed at your detailed memory of
Ganjigal, and I'm impressed that your account if it is so analytical."

      "Fighting for a cause that was lost from the start," Ben said.

      "Never mind about that," Benzion said. "Politicians and generals were
responsible for that, not you."

      "Thanks for that, Mr. Haiam," Ben said.

      *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

      We moved indoors and got dressed. Sarah Haiam served coffee and
sandwiches at the dining room table. Chaim presented Ben with a remarkable gift,
in an unusual way. "Chaim has a gift for you, Ben," Red said. "It's something he
found last year at a garage sale. He's afraid that you might not accept it, so it's my
job to tell you that you must."

      Chaim handed Ben an old leather-bound book, somewhat tattered at the
edges. It was by James M. Adair. The title: History of the American-Indians,
Particularly Those Nations Adjoining to the Mississippi, East and West Florida,
Georgia, South & North Carolina and Virginia, published in London for Edward
& Charles Dilley, in Poultry, A.D. MDCCLXXV. "The M. is for Makittrick, John
Adair's middle name," Chaim explained. "Poultry Street was a continuation of
Cheapside, on the east side of London."

      "You're right," Ben said, "this book must be worth a fortune. You
shouldn't part with it, Chaim."

      "The book was in the bottom of a box of old music scores," Chaim said. "I
paid $5.00 for the whole box. Look at the 'ex libris' on the inside cover, and
you'll see why I want you to have it."

      He looked at the faded medallion, EX LIBRIS, and below it, in bold
handwriting, Benedict Arnold, the signature of Ben's ancestor.

      "When we stayed at the Lathrop Bed & Breakfast in Norwich, the
proprietor, Eliza Jethrop, told us that no book from Benedict Arnold's library has
ever been found, although he was a great reader, and books were part of his trade
as an apothecary," Ben said. "This book is a first in the reconstruction of Benedict
Arnold's life."

       "The book caught my eye because Adair was one of a few colonial
writers who believed that the American Indians descended from the Ten Lost
Tribes of Israel," Chaim said. He turned to a passage halfway through the book
and read it aloud:

Robert Williams, the first Englishman in New-England, who is
said to have learned the Indian language, in order to convert the
natives, believed them to be Jews: and he assures us, that their
tradition records that their ancestors came from the south-west, and
that they return there at death; that their women separate
themselves from the rest of the people at certain periods; and that
their language bore some affinity to the Hebrew.

      "This is one of many passages in which Benedict Arnold made notes in
the margins," Chaim said. See, in this one, he crossed out "-bert" and wrote
"Roger" in the left margin. He underlined "Indian language" and wrote
"Narragansett" in the right margin, and below it, "Also Wm. Arnold, for advantage in
business. B.A. learned Narragansett and Wampanoeg."

      "I think he disputed the opinion that Roger Williams and William Arnold
had religious reasons for learning Narragansett for religious reasons. B.A. must be
the first Benedict Arnold," Ben said.

      Chaim turned the pages to an early chapter in which Adair described
Indian ethnicity and speculated about race. In this discussion, the Genesis-based
notion of three races (descended from Shem, Ham, and Japheth) was combined
with deductive arguments reflective of eighteenth-century Enlightenment thought:


Observations on the colour, shape, temper, and dress of the
Indians of America.
      The Indians are of a copper or red-clay colour -- and they
delight in every thing, which they imagine may promote and
increase it: accordingly, they paint their faces with vermilion, as
the best and most beautiful ingredient.

The left margin has a faint note in Benedict Arnold's hand: "Caribou Brave likes
his war-paint!So do I," Again, on the same page:

All the Indians are so strongly attached to, and prejudiced in favour
of, their own colour, that they think as meanly of the whites, as we
possibly can do of them. The English traders among them,
experience much of it, and are often very glad to be allowed to
pass muster with the Indian chieftains, as fellow-brethren of the
human species.


      Benedict Arnold disputed this passage. He wrote in the left margin: "Not
so the Mohegans. And Caribou Brave takes pride in his colonial disguises, which fool
everyone who doesn't know him."

      "Adair lived with the Choctaws for years, so his examples are drawn from
tribes in the Southern Colonies, and from Alabama and Mississippi," Chaim said.
He pointed to a passage later in the book:

The Creeks having a particular friendship for some of the traders,
who had treated them pretty liberally, took this opportunity to
chide the Choktahs, before the traders, in a smart though friendly
way, for not allowing to the English the name of human creatures:
? for the general name they give us in their most favourable war-
speeches, resembles that of a contemptible, heterogeneous animal.

Beside "heterogeneous animal," Benedict Arnold wrote "mule-offspring of horse
and female donkey."

      "Mules are sterile. They can't reproduce," Chaim said. "That must be the
point of the Choctaw insult."

      "It's rather more subtle than Islamists who call Jews the sons of monkeys
and pigs," Benzion interjected.

      Chaim turned to another page where Benedict Arnold wrote notes in the
margins. "This is where Adair gets into race theory. We have to read carefully,
'cause it's gonna get deep. Adair contrasts two theories about the origins of race.
First there's the notion of three races, black, white, and yellow, based on the story
of Noah's three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Then there's an Enlightenment
theory of four races, black, white, yellow, and red, created by God in four
separate acts of creation. Adair holds to the Genesis-based theory, and he argues
that the Indians are racially white, and that they are the Lost Tribes of Israel."

That the Indian colour is merely accidental, or artificial, appears
pretty evident. Their own traditions record them to have come to
their present lands by the way of the west, from a far distant
country, and where there was no variegation of colour in human
beings; and they are entirely ignorant which was the first or
primitive colour. Besides, their rites, customs, &c. as we shall
presently see, prove them to be orientalists: and, as the difference
of colour among the human species, is one of the principal causes
of separation, strife, and bloodshed, would it not greatly reflect on
the goodness and justice of the Divine Being, ignominiously to
brand numerous tribes and their posterity, with a colour odious and
hateful in the sight and opinion of those of a different colour.

Beside "orientalists" in the text, Arnold wrote "Lost Tribes."

Some writers have contended, from the diversity of colour, that
America was not peopled from any part of Asia, or of the old
world, but that the natives were a separate creation. Of this
opinion, is Lord Kames, and which he labours to establish in his
late publication, entitled, Sketches of the History of Man.

At this point Benedict Arnold wrote in the margin, "Henry Home, Lord
Kane, 1774."

	"From this note, I would infer that Benedict Arnold had a copy of
Sketches of the History of Man in his library," Ben said. "He kept up with
the latest books published in London."

But his reasoning on this point, for a local creation, is contrary
both to revelation, and facts. His chief argument, that "there is not
a single hair on the body of any American, nor the least appearance
of a beard," is utterly destitute of foundation, as can be attested by
all who have had any communication with them--of this more
presently--Moreover, to form one creation of whites, a second
creation for the yellows, and a third for the blacks, is a weakness,
of which infinite wisdom is incapable. Its operations are plain,
easy, constant, and perfect. The variegation therefore of colours
among the human race, depends upon a second cause. Lord Kames
himself acknowledges, that "the Spanish inhabitants of Carthagena
in South-America lose their vigour and colour in a few months."

      At the point where Adair quoted Kames? "there is not a single
hair on the body of any American"? Benedict Arnold wrote a revealing
marginal note: "Red Feather & Caribou Brave have hair on their thighs and
in the cleft of the arse." Enough said. Beside "Carthagena," Arnold wrote
"slave-trading port in New Spain."

We are informed by the anatomical observations of our American
physicians, concerning the Indians, that they have discerned a
certain fine cowl, or web, of a red gluey substance, close under the
outer skin, to which it reflects the colour; as the epidermis, or outer
skin, is alike clear in every different creature. And experience,
which is the best medium to discover truth, gives the true cause
why this corpus mucosum or gluish web, is red in the Indians, and
white in us; the parching winds, and hot sun-beams, beating upon
their naked bodies, in their various gradations of life, necessarily
tarnish their skins with the tawny red colour.

Beside "corpus mucosum," Arnold wrote in the margin: "most visible in the
scrotum & inside the prepuce, also in ridges of the bung-hole-Red Feather &
Caribou Brave. Wind and sun not the cause!"

	"How extraordinary!" Benzion exclaimed. "He turned Adair's
empirical argument upside down in a shrewd observation. It goes without
saying that Benedict Arnold had plenty of opportunities to observe."

	The text continues:

Add to this, their constant anointing themselves with bear's oil, or
grease, mixt with a certain red root, which, by a peculiar property,
is able alone, in a few years time, to produce the Indian colour in
those who are white born, and who have even advanced to
maturity. These metamorphoses I have often seen.

Beside "bear's oil," Benedict Arnold wrote in the left margin, "also used
for buggery." In the right margin, Arnold revealed his 'apothecary' side: he
glossed "a certain red root" as "Lachnanthus caroliniana, L. tinctora."

At the Shawano main camp, I saw a Pensylvanian, a white man by
birth, and in profession a christian, who, by the inclemency of the
sun, and his endeavours of improving the red colour, was tarnished
with as deep an Indian hue, as any of the camp, though they had
been in the woods only the space of four years.

Benedict Arnold's marginal note: "I can pass as Mohegan or Abenaki as
well as Caribou Brave can pass as English."

As the American Indians are of a reddish or copper colour,--so in
general they are strong, well proportioned in body and limbs,
surprisingly active and nimble, and hardy in their own way of
living.

Arnold's marginal note: "Beautiful Red Men, Abenaki are gorgeous,
especially when painted for war!"

	"It's a good thing for Benedict Arnold that the Puritans never
inspected his library," Benzion mused.

They are ingenious, witty, cunning, and deceitful; very faithful
indeed to their own tribes, but privately dishonest, and
mischievous to the Europeans and christians. Their being honest
and harmless to each other, may be through fear of resentment and
reprisal--which is unavoidable in case of any injury. They are very
close, and retentive of their secrets; never forget injuries;
revengeful of blood, to a degree of distraction.

Benedict Arnold wrote his objections in the margins. On the left, he wrote:
"C.B. noble as Charles d'Orléans, kept faith as war-prisoner, kept Abenaki
out of Pontiac's rebellion." In the right margin he wrote: "R.F. my only
friend in Concord. R.F. and C.B. the only men I would trust at sea."

      "People in New England despised Benedict Arnold for an Indian
lover," Ben remarked. "His partiality to the Mohegans and Abenaki was
based on experience."

      "It's even more interesting that Benedict Arnold knew about the
life of Charles d'Orléans, since he alludes to Charles's life as a prisoner of
war in England after the Battle of Agincourt," Chaim remarked. I've
looked for eighteenth-century editions of Charles's ballads and songs, but
so far I haven't found any. He might have learned about Charles d'Orléans
from the Encyclopédie raisonné des sciences, published by Denis Diderot
in 28 volumes from 1751 to 1772. The Encyclopédie is just the sort of
book that Arnold would have had for sale in his apothecary in New Haven.
Even so, I haven't found any hint in Arnold's notes that he might have
known the French Encyclopedia."

They are timorous, and, consequently, cautious; very jealous of
encroachments from their christian neighbours; and, likewise
content with freedom, in every turn of fortune. They are possessed
of a strong comprehensive judgment,--can form surprisingly crafty
schemes, and conduct them with equal caution, silence, and
address; they admit none but distinguished warriors, and old
beloved men, into their councils. They are slow, but very
persevering in their undertakings--commonly temperate in eating,
but excessively immoderate in drinking.--They often transform
themselves by liquor into the likeness of mad foaming bears. The
women, in general, are of a mild, amiable, soft disposition:
exceedingly modest in their behaviour, and very seldom noisy
either in the single, or married state.

In the left margin, Arnold wrote, "Freedom! Like the Scots in Britain,
freedom is their main motivation." In the right margin, Arnold wrote: "Chief
Benjamin Uncas, Mogehans; Chief Dark Eagle, Abenaki, both wise leaders."

The men are expert in the use of fire-arms,--in shooting the bow,--
and throwing the feathered dart, and tomohawk, into the flying
enemy. They resemble the lynx, with their sharp penetrating black
eyes, and are exceedingly swift of foot; especially in a long chase:
they will stretch away, through the rough woods, by the bare track,
for two or three hundred miles, in pursuit of a flying enemy, with
the continued speed, and eagerness, of a stanch pack of blood
hounds, till they shed blood. When they have allayed this their
burning thirst, they return home, at their leisure, unless they chance
to be pursued, as is sometimes the case; whence the traders say,
"that an Indian is never in a hurry, but when the devil is at his
heels."

In the right margin, Arnold wrote: "Good fighting men. C.B. the model & he
won't take scalps."

	Chaim turned a page. "Now we come to the part about the
supposed hairlessness if Indians," he said.

Their eyes are small, sharp, and black; and their hair is lank,
coarse, and darkish. I never saw any with curled hair, but one in
the Choktah country, where was also another with red hair;
probably, they were a mixture of the French and Indians.
Romancing travellers, and their credulous copyists, report them to
be imbarbes, and as persons impuberes, and they appear so to
strangers. But both sexes pluck all the hair off their bodies, with a
kind of tweezers, made formerly of clam-shells, now of middle-
sized wire, in the shape of a gun-worm; which, being twisted round
a small stick, and the ends fastened therein, after being properly
tempered, keeps its form: holding this Indian razor between their
fore-finger and thumb, they deplume themselves, after the manner
of the Jewish novitiate priests, and proselytes.--As the former
could not otherwise be purified for the function of his sacerdotal
office; or the latter, be admitted to the benefit of religious
communion.

      Beside imbarbes and impuberes, Arnold wrote in the margin: "No
beards, no pubes-I've helped R.F. and C.B. shave beard & pubes!"
Beside "gun-worm" he wrote, "spiral screw used to clean the barrel of
musket." Beside "Jewish novitiate priests," he wrote, "Lost Tribes of
Israel."

      "I believe that Benedict Arnold held to the view that the Indians
were the Lost Tribes of Israel," Chaim said. "So far as I know, this idea
goes back to a Portuguese Sephardic Jew named Antonio de Montezinos,
who made a voyage to South America in 1641-1642. In Ecuador he
encountered an Indian tribe that practiced Judaic-like rituals. From this he
deduced that they were Reubenites and Levites. In Amsterdam in 1649,
Montezinos was examined by a Rabbi named Menasseh ben Israel, who
concluded that the Ten Tribes had scattered to many lands, including
South America. Montezinos died around 1650, but the Rabbi published a
narrative of his travels in The Hope of Israel, published in London that
year. I've studied Benedict Arnold's marginal notes, looking for signs that
he might have known The Hope of Israel, but it's impossible to tell, since
John Adair used the Rabbi as one of his sources. The most we can say is
that it's a mid-seventeenth-century idea, the notion that the Indians are
Lost Tribes of Israel."

      "That's quite a contrast to the Spaniards, who speculated about
whether or not the Indians even had souls," I said.

Our reading continued:

Their chief dress is very simple, like that of the patriarchal age; of
choice, many of their old head-men wear a long wide frock, made
of the skins of wild beasts, in honour of that antient custom: It
must be necessity that forces them to the pinching sandals for their
feet. They seem quite easy, and indifferent, in every various scene
of life, as if they were utterly divested of passions, and the sense of
feeling. Martial virtue, and not riches, is their invariable standard
for preferment; for they neither esteem, nor despite any of their
people one jot more or less, on account of riches or dress. They
compare both these, to paint on a warrior's face; because it incites
others to a spirit of martial benevolence for their country, and
pleases his own fancy, and the eyes of spectators, for a little time,
but is sweated off, while he is performing his war-dances; or is
defaced, by the change of weather.

      Here Benedict Arnold wrote in the margin: "This describes the
martial simplicity of the Abenaki, but the Mohegans are content in peaceful
simplicity too."

      A few pages later, Adair turned his attention to Indian costume,
another topic that attracted Benedict Arnold's interest:

They formerly wore shirts, made of drest deer-skins, for their
summer visiting dress: but their winter-hunting clothes were long
and shaggy, made of the skins of panthers, bucks, bears, beavers,
and otters; the fleshy sides outward, sometimes doubled, and
always softened like velvet-cloth, though they retained their fur
and hair. The needles and thread they used formerly, (and now at
times) were fish-bones, or the horns and bones of deer, rubbed
sharp, and deer's sinews, and a sort of hemp, that grows among
them spontaneously, in rich open lands.

      Here Arnold wrote in the right margin: "needles & threads highly
valued by Abenaki & by Penobscots in Maine, good for apothecary trade."

The women's dress consists only in a broad softened skin, or
several small skins sewed together, which they wrap and tye round
their waist, reaching a little below their knees: in cold weather,
they wrap themselves in the softened skins of buffalo calves, with
the wintery shagged wool inward, never forgetting to anoint, and
tie up their hair, except in their time of mourning. The men wear,
for ornament, and the conveniencies of hunting, thin deer-skin
boots, well smoked, that reach so high up their thighs, as with their
jackets to secure them from the brambles and braky thickets. They
sew them about five inches from the edges, which are formed into
toffels, to which they fasten fawns trotters, and small pieces of
tinkling metal, or wild turkey-cock-spurs. The beaus used to fasten
the like to their war-pipes, with the addition of a piece of an
enemy's scalp with a tuft of long hair hanging down from the
middle of the stem, each of them painted red: and they still observe
that old custom, only they choose bell-buttons, to give a greater
sound.

      In the right margin, Arnold wrote: "Leather belts & boots valued in Maine,
Penobscots and colonial lumbermen will trade for dressed logs & planks." In the left
margin, Arnold glossed Adair's description of war-pipes and scalps: "War-pipes
(sans scalps) used by Mohegans in ceremonial dances. C.B. no longer attaches a
scalp to his war-pipe, but substitutes peacock feathers obtained from Lathrop
apothecary, much to the delight of Abenaki."

They have a great aversion to the wearing of breeches; for to that
custom, they affix the idea of helplessness, and effeminacy. I know
a German of thirty years standing, chiefly among the Chikkasah
Indians, who because he kept up his breeches with a narrow piece
of cloth that reached across his shoulders, is distinguished by them,
as are all his countrymen, by the despicable appellative, Kish-Kish
Tar&amacrkshe, or Tied Arse.--They esteem the English much
more than the Germans, because our limbs, they say, are less
restrained by our apparel from manly exercise, than theirs. The
Indian women also discreetly observe, that, as all their men sit
down to make water, the ugly breeches would exceedingly
incommode them; and that, if they were allowed to wear breeches,
it would portend no good to their country: however, they add,
should they ever be so unlucky, as to have that pinching custom
introduced among them, the English breeches would best suit their
own female posture on that occasion; but that it would be
exceedingly troublesome either way.

      Benedict Arnold wrote in the left margin: "Pieter Van Hueveln
tight-breeched like Germans, Caribou Brave rather likes the fashion." In the
right margin: "Mohegans and Abenaki piss standing, just like English."


The men wear a slip of cloth, about a quarter of an ell wide, and an
ell and an half long, in the lieu of breeches; which they put
between their legs, and tye round their haunches, with a convenient
broad bandage. The women, since the time we first traded with
them, wrap a fathom of the half breadth of Stroud cloth round their
waist, and tie it with a leathern belt, which is commonly covered
with brass runners or buckles: but this sort of loose petticoat,
reaches only to their hams, in order to shew their exquisitely fine
proportioned limbs.

Benedict wrote in the right margin: "Stroud cloth, woolen cloth from
England & from Connecticut-good for trade in NY and Maine."

They make their shoes for common use, out of the skins of the bear
and elk, well dressed and smoked, to prevent hardening; and those
for ornament, out of deer-skins, done in the like manner: but they
chiefly go bare-footed, and always bare-headed. The men fasten
several different sorts of beautiful feathers, frequently in tufts; or
the wing of a red bird, or the skin of a small hawk, to a lock of hair
on the crown of their heads. And every different Indian nation
when at war, trim their hair, after a different manner, through
contempt of each other; thus we can distinguish an enemy in the
woods, so far off as we can see him.

      Arnold wrote: "Leathern boots popular with Indians, good for trade.
Shoes, not so much."

Their language is copious, and very expressive, for their narrow
orbit of ideas, and full of rhetorical tropes and figures, like the
orientalists. In early times, when languages were not so copious,
rhetoric was invented to supply that defect: and, what barrenness
then forced them to, custom now continues as an ornament.

	Formerly, at a public meeting of the head-men, and chief
orators, of the Choktah nation, I heard one of their eloquent
speakers deliver a very pathetic, elaborate, allegorical, tragic
oration, in the high praise, and for the great loss, of their great,
judicious war-chieftain, Shu-las-hum-máshtà-be, our daring, brave
friend, red shoes. The orator compared him to the sun, that
enlightens and enlivens the whole system of created beings: and
having carried the metaphor to a considerable length, he expatiated
on the variety of evils, that necessarily result from the
disappearance and absence of the sun; and, with a great deal of
judgment, and propriety of expression, he concluded his oration
with the same trope, with which he began.

      Arnold wrote in the left margin: "Red Feather likes metaphors in
John Donne & Jeremy Taylor; memorized some of them. Rhetorical figures
common to Indian & English."

They pay no religious worship to stocks, or stones, after the
manner of the old eastern pagans; neither do they worship any kind
of images whatsoever. And it deserves our notice, in a very
particular manner, to invalidate the idle dreams of the jesuitical fry
of South-America, that none of all the various nations, from
Hudson's Bay to the Missisippi, has ever been known, by our
trading people, to attempt to make any image of the great Divine
Being, whom they worship. This is consonant to the Jewish
observance of the second commandment, and directly contrary to
the usage of all the ancient heathen world, who made corporeal
representations of their deities--and their conduct, is a reproach to
many reputed christian temples, which are littered round with a
crowd of ridiculous figures to represent God, spurious angels,
pretended saints, and notable villains.

      "Nobility of Abenaki religion," Arnold wrote in the left margin. In
the right, he wrote: "Mohegans mostly Congregationalists but they have a
Shaman."

Here I cannot forbear remarking, that the Indians call the penis of
any animal, by the very same name, Hasse; with this difference
only, that the termination is in this instance pronounced short,
whereas the other is long, on purpose to distinguish the words.
This bears a strong analogy to what the rabbins tell us of the purity
of the Hebrew language, that "it is so chaste a tongue, as to have
no proper names for the parts of generation." The Cheerake can
boast of the same decency of style, for they call a corn-house,
Watóhre and the penis of any creature, by the very same name;
intimating, that as the sun and moon influence and ripen the fruits
that are stored in it, so by the help of Ceres and Bacchus, Venus
lies warm, whereas on the contrary, sine Cerere & Bacchus, friget
Venus.

      Benedict Arnold took issue with Adair, and corrected the bit about
"corn-house": "Not corn-house or corn-crib; the allusion is to the shape of
corn on the cob, as for English in 'corn-holing, Nothing to do with Ceres &
Bacchus."

      "I found only one passage in Adair relating to gay sex," Chaim
said. He turned to the relevant page:

It ought to be remarked, that they are careful of their youth, and
fail not to punish them when they transgress. Anno 1766, I saw an
old head man, called the Dog-King (from the nature of his office)
correct several young persons--some for supposed faults, and
others by way of prevention. He began with a lusty young fellow,
who was charged with being more effeminate than became a
warrior; and with acting contrary to their old religious rites and
customs, particularly, because he lived nearer than any of the rest
to an opulent and helpless German, by whom they supposed he
might have been corrupted. He bastinadoed the young sinner
severely, with a thick whip, about a foot and a half long, composed
of plaited silk grass, and the fibres of the button snake-root stalks,
tapering to the point, which was secured with a knot. He reasoned
with him, as he corrected him: he told him that he was Chehakse
Kanèba-He, literally, "you are as one who is wicked, and almost
lost*." The grey-hair'd corrector said, he treated him in that manner
according to ancient custom, through an effect of love, to induce
him to shun vice, and to imitate the virtues of his illustrious fore-
fathers, which he endeavoured to enumerate largely: when the
young sinner had received his supposed due, he went off
seemingly well pleased.

      Benedict Arnold wrote in the right margin: "In London 'effeminate' men are
hanged monthly at Tyburn. He might meet with the same fate in New England.
Mohegans and Abenaki are more tolerant. R.F. & C.B. not only escaped whipping,
they are respected in their tribes."

      We reviewed Benedict Arnold's marginal notes, and decided to make a list
of things that they told us about their author. Here's what we came up with:

      First, Benedict was a critical reader of books, so much so that sometimes
he made notes in the margin.

      Second, Benedict's learning extended to knowledge of a medieval French
poet (Charles d'Orléans), though this might have come second-hand from
Diderot's Encyclopedia.

      Third, as an Indian lover, Benedict was thoughtful about race. He studied
Lord Kames's Sketches of the History of Man and disagreed with it. He believed
that the English and Indians belonged to the same 'white' race. He was persuaded
by John Adair's argument that the Indians descended from the Ten Lost Tribes of
Israel. This was a popular view in colonial times. It was a view that supported his
empathy and respect for Indians. Benedict also appreciated the Indians' use of
rhetoric, especially metaphor, and saw its kinship with writers like John Donne
and Jeremy Taylor.

      Fourth, Benedict's marginalia confirms his intimate relations with Red
Feather and Caribou Brave. It also confirms his acquaintance with the Dutch
farmer near Poughkeepsie, Pieter Van Hueveln-Caribou Brave's lover.

      Fifth, Benedict observed the execution of sodomites at Tyburn in London,
and praised Indian tribes for their toleration.

      Sixth, incidental notes confirm Benedict's knowledge of trade up and
down the Atlantic coast, and his knowledge of apothecary science.

      "This sketch of Benedict Arnold is different from the one I remember
learning in school: 'Benedict the traitor'," Chaim remarked.