Just finished reading: The First Conspiracy
Ever since I found out my friend’s ancestor tried to whack George Washington, I’ve been itching to learn more about it. I just finished reading The First Conspiracy: The Secret Plot to Kill George Washington by Brad Meltzer and Josh Mensch. It’s an incredible story.
Flip through my sketchbook, then scroll down for a few things that jumped out at me. (Don’t worry — I’m not giving away any big spoilers about the conspiracy because you should just go read the book yourself. You won’t be disappointed.)
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New York Governor William Tryon’s feelings were hurt.
Tryon returned to NYC after a year or so in England. A parade was planned in his honor. Coincidentally, George Washington was in town also being honored. With a parade. Awwwwwkward.
In the long-standing tradition of powerful men with bruised egos making a great big mess of everything, Tryon went ahead and made a great big mess of everything.
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He was ruthless.
North Carolinians got sick of paying for his fancy palace while he was their governor. They rebelled. He sicced his militia on them. Leaders were sentenced to a most imaginative and detailed 7-part punishment:
“Hanged by the neck”
“He should be cut down while still alive”
“That his bowels should be taken out and burned before his face”
“That his head should be cut off”
“That his body should be divided in quarters”
“Which are to be placed at the King’s disposal”
“May the Lord have mercy on your soul”
It’s not a good sign when the least horrific step is “hanged by the neck.”
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He lived aboard the HMS ‘Fraidy Pants.
Tryon freaked out when he learned that the Continental Congress resolved to capture enemies of America and that his name came up. Unfortunately, he didn’t know that Congress decided to kidnap Lord Dunmore instead of him. Not pacified by NYC Mayor Whitehead Hicks’ flowery lack of promise to protect him, Tryon decided to live aboard a ship, the HMS ‘Fraidy Pants.
Kidding.
Aboard the Duchess of Gordon, a merchant ship protected by a British warship. He spent his winter there, freezing his tuchus off.
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It bit him on the butt when he tried to rally NYC Loyalists.
Tryon wanted to scare the Rebels and rally the Loyalists. The Rebels hung a Tryon effigy, burned it, and kicked it around.
The Loyalists fled.
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Pomeranian used to be bigger!
General Charles Lee was a bold choice by Washington. He was new to the colonies. He was British. He fought as a British officer during the French & Indian Wars.
I kinda love this guy:
Nicknamed “Boiling Water” by the Native Americans he fought with due to his fiery temper.
Swore a lot.
Unkempt.
Loved dogs more than people. Generally had a pack of dogs with him. His Pomeranian Spada was sometimes mistaken for a bear because Pomeranian were bigger in the 1770s and how freaking cool is that?
No patience for pacifists, saying they’d do nothing to the Howe brothers, even if they caught them with their wives “in flagrante delicto” if youknowwhathemeans.
Regarding William Tryon, Lee informed Washington that he “cut off all intercourse with him — a measure which has thrown the mayor, council, and Tories into agonies” which of course made me giggle because things that sound dirty but aren’t always make me giggle.
This doodle of Lee seems ridiculous. But before you dismiss it entirely as obviously inaccurate, take a peek at this illustration. It’s magnificent!
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NYC residents drank a lot in the 1770s.
They averaged more than 8 servings of rum each day. And it’s worth noting that this doesn’t include the wine, beer, gin, and any other spirits they also consumed. Oh, and NYC alcohol was a higher proof.
Here’s the rest of the doodle from this page, just because:
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The Founding Fathers were terrible at naming committees.
The Secret Committee. Committee for the Hearing & Trying [of] Disaffected Persons & Those of Equivocal Character. Committee on Intestine Enemies (‘cause it takes guts to conspire against General Washington).
While trying to find out if Gouverneur Morris had lost his leg yet perhaps in a post-coital dash to escape an angry husband (he hadn’t!), I stumbled on a post that claimed that John Jay wished Morris had “lost something else” instead of his leg. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s too good not to include.
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OK, I have an embarrassing confession…
John Adams et al were quickly losing patience with Great Britain at this point and finally decided we were done with them and holy crap I thought we already knew this?! Nope. We were stealing canons and dragging them hundreds of miles in the snow through the mountains and hanging traitors etc. etc. but we weren’t yet done done.
Not entirely applicable to this situation necessarily, but Ross and Rachel popped in my head when I learned this: “WE WERE ON A BREAK!”
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