prevent were instrumental in giving Arnold warning that he had been discovered, thus triggering his hasty and successful escape.
A typical “brief” written by Washington himself for Townsend late in 1778 mentioned among other things the following: “. . . mix as much as possible among the officers and refugees, visit the Coffee Houses, and all public places [in New York.]” Washington then went on to enumerate particular targets and the information he wanted about them: “whether any works are thrown up on Harlem River, near Harlem Town, and whether Horn’s Hook is fortified. If so, how many men are kept at each place and what number and what sized Cannon are in those works.”
This is a model for an intelligence brief. It spells out exactly what is wanted and even tells the agent how to go about getting the information.
The actual collection of information against British headquarters in New York and Philadelphia seems to have been carried out by countless private citizens, tradesmen, booksellers, tavernkeepers and the like, who had daily contact with British officers, befriended them, listened to their conversations, masquerading as Tories in order to gain their confidence, The fact that the opposing sides were made up of people who spoke the same language, had the same heritage and differed only in political opinion made spying a different and in a sense a somewhat easier task than it is in conflicts between parties of alien nationality, language and even physical aspect. By the same token, the job of counterespionage is immensely difficult under such circumstances.
One typical unsung patriot of the time was a certain Hercules Mulligan, a New York tailor with a large British clientele. His neighbors thought him a Tory or at least a sympathizer and snubbed him and made life difficult for him. On General Washington’s first morning in New York after the war was over, he stopped off rather conspicuously at Mulligan’s house and, to the enormous surprise of Mulligan’s neighbors, breakfasted with him. After that, the neighbors understood about Mulligan. He had obviously gleaned vital information from his talkative British military customers and managed to pass it on to the General, possibly via Townsend’s network.
Intelligence during the Revolution was by no means limited to military espionage in the Colonies. A fancier game of international political spying was being played for high stakes in diplomatic circles, chiefly in France, where Benjamin Franklin headed an American mission whose purpose was to secure French assistance for the Colonial cause. It was of the utmost importance for the British to learn how Franklin’s negotiations were proceeding and what help the French were offering the Colonies. How many spies surrounded Franklin and how many he himself had in England we shall probably never know. He was a careful man and he was sitting in a foreign country and he himself published little about this period of his life. However, we do know a great deal about one man who apparently succeeded in double-crossing Franklin. Or did he? That is the question.
Dr. Edward Bancroft had been born in the Colonies in Westfield, Massachusetts, but had been educated in England. He was appointed as secretary to the American commission in Paris, wormed his way into Franklin’s confidence and become his “faithful” assistant and protégé for very little pay. He successfully simulated the part of a loyal and devoted American. He was able to manage nicely on his low salary from the Americans because he was being generously subsidized by the British—“£500 down, the same amount as yearly salary and a life pension.” Being privy, or so he thought, to all Franklin’s secret negotiations, he was no doubt a valuable agent to the British.
He passed his messages to the British Embassy in Paris by depositing them in a bottle hidden in the hollow root of a tree in the Tuileries Gardens. They were written in secret inks