REPRESENTATIVE OF PENNSYLVANIA IN ENGLAND: RETURN HOME
It was not possible to make a world-wide reputation in the public
affairs of the province of Pennsylvania; but so much fame as opportunity
would admit of had by this time been won by Franklin. In respect of
influence and prestige among his fellow colonists none other came near
to him. Meanwhile among all his crowding occupations he had found time
for those scientific researches towards which his heart always yearned.
He had flown his famous kite; had entrapped the lightning of the clouds;
had written treatises, which, having been collected into a volume, "were
much taken notice of in England," made no small stir in France, and were
"translated into the Italian, German, and Latin languages." A learned
French abbé, "preceptor in natural philosophy to the royal family, and
an able experimenter," at first controverted his discoveries and even
questioned his existence. But after a little time this worthy scientist
became "assur'd that there really existed such a person as Franklin at
Philadelphia," while other distinguished scientific men of Europe
united in the adoption of his theories. Kant called him the 'Prometheus
of modern times.' Thus, in one way and another, his name had probably
already come to be more widely known than that of any other living man
who had been born on this side of the Atlantic. It might have been even
much more famous, had he been more free to follow his own bent, a
pleasure which he could only enjoy in a very limited degree. In 1753 he
wrote: "I am so engaged in business, public and private, that those more
pleasing pursuits [philosophical inquiries] are frequently interrupted,
and the chain of thought necessary to be closely continued in such
disquisitions is so broken and disjointed that it is with difficulty I
satisfy myself in any of them." Similar complaints occur frequently, and
it is certain that his extensive philosophical labors were all conducted
in those mere cracks and crannies of leisure scantily interspersed amid
the hours of a man apparently overwhelmed with the functions of active
life.
He was now selected by the Assembly to encounter the perils of crossing
the Atlantic upon an important mission in behalf of his province. For a
long while past the relationship between the Penns, unworthy sons of the
great William, and now the proprietaries, on the one side, and their
quasi subjects, the people of the province, upon the other, had been
steadily becoming more and more strained, until something very like a
crisis had been reached. As usual in English and Anglo-American
communities, it was a quarrel over dollars, or rather over pounds
sterling, a question of taxation, which was producing the alienation. At
bottom, there was the trouble which always pertains to absenteeism; the
proprietaries lived in England, and regarded their vast American estate,
with about 200,000 white inhabitants, only as a source of revenue. That
mercantile community, however, with the thrift of Quakers and the
independent temper of Englishmen, had a shrewd appreciation of, and an
obstinate respect for, its own interests. Hence the discussions, already
of threatening proportions.
The chief point in dispute was, whether or not the waste lands, still
directly owned by the proprietaries, and other lands let by them at
quit-rents, should be taxed in the same manner as like property of other
owners. They refused to submit to such taxation; the Assembly of
Burgesses insisted. In ordinary times the proprietaries prevailed; for
the governor was their nominee and removable at their pleasure; they
gave him general instructions to assent to no law taxing their holdings,
and he naturally obeyed his masters. But since governors got their
salaries only by virtue of a vote of the Assembly, it seems that they
sometimes disregarded instructions, in the sacred cause of their own
interests. After a while, therefore, the proprietaries, made shrewd by
experience, devised the scheme of placing their unfortunate sub-rulers
under bonds. This went far towards settling the matter. Yet in such a
crisis and stress as were now present in the colony, when exceptionally
large sums had to be raised, and great sacrifices and sufferings
endured, and when little less than the actual existence of the province
might be thought to be at stake, it certainly seemed that the rich and
idle proprietaries might stand on the same footing with their poor and
laboring subjects. They lived comfortably in England upon revenues
estimated to amount to the then enormous sum of £20,000 sterling; while
the colonists were struggling under unusual losses, as well as enormous
expenses, growing out of the war and Indian ravages. At such a time
their parsimony, their "incredible meanness," as Franklin called it, was
cruel as well as stupid. At last the Assembly flatly refused to raise
any money unless the proprietaries should be burdened like the rest. All
should pay together, or all should go to destruction together. The Penns
too stood obstinate, facing the not less resolute Assembly. It was
indeed a deadlock! Yet the times were such that neither party could
afford to maintain its ground indefinitely. So a temporary arrangement
was made, whereby of £60,000 sterling to be raised the proprietaries
agreed to contribute £5000, and the Assembly agreed to accept the same
in lieu or commutation for their tax. But neither side abandoned its
principle. Before long more money was needed, and the dispute was as
fierce as ever.
The burgesses now thought that it would be well to carry a statement of
their case before the king in council and the lords of trade. In
February, 1757, they named their speaker, Isaac Norris, and Franklin to
be their emissaries "to represent in England the unhappy situation of
the province," and to seek redress by an act of Parliament. Norris, an
aged man, begged to be excused; Franklin accepted. His son was given
leave of absence, in order to attend him as his secretary. During the
prolonged and bitter controversies Franklin had been the most prominent
member of the Assembly on the popular side. He had drawn many of the
addresses, arguments, and other papers; and his familiarity with the
business, therefore, no less than his good judgment, shrewdness, and
tact united to point him out as the man for the very unpleasant and
difficult errand.
A portion of his business also was to endeavor to induce the king to
resume the province of Pennsylvania as his own. A clause in the charter
had reserved this right, which could be exercised on payment of a
certain sum of money. The colonists now preferred to be an appanage of
the crown rather than a fief of the Penns. Oddly enough, some of the
provincial governors were suggesting the like measure concerning other
provinces; but from widely different motives. The colonists thought a
monarch better than private individuals, as a master; while the
governors thought that only the royal authority could enforce their
theory of colonial government. They angrily complained that the
colonies would do nothing voluntarily; a most unjust charge, as was soon
to be seen; for in the Seven Years' War the colonists did three quarters
of all that was done. What the governors really meant was that the
colonies would not raise money and turn it over to other persons to
spend for them.
It must be acknowledged that the prospects for the success of this
mission were not good. Almost simultaneously with Franklin's
appointment, the House of Commons resolved that "the claim of right in a
colonial Assembly to raise and apply public money, by its own act alone,
is derogatory to the crown, and to the rights of the people of Great
Britain." This made Thomas Penn jubilant. "The people of Pennsylvania,"
he said, "will soon be convinced ... that they have not a right to the
powers of government they claim."[7]
[Note 7: Bancroft, _Hist. U. S._ iv. 255.]
Franklin took his passage in a packet-ship, which was to sail from New
York forthwith. But the vessel was subject to the orders of Lord
Loudoun, newly appointed governor of the province of New York, and a
sort of military over-lord over all the governors, assemblies, and
people of the American provinces. His mission was to organize, to
introduce system and submission, and above all else to overawe. But he
was no man for the task; not because his lordship was not a dominant
character, but because he was wholly unfit to transact business.
Franklin tried some negotiations with him, and got no satisfaction or
conclusion.
The ship which waited upon the will of this noble procrastinator had a
very doubtful future. Every day at nine o'clock his lordship seated
himself at his desk, and stayed there writing industriously, hour after
hour, upon his dispatches; every day he foretold with much accuracy and
positiveness of manner that these would surely be ready, and the ship
would inevitably sail, on the next day. Thus week after week glided by,
and still he uttered the same prediction, "to-morrow, and to-morrow, and
to-morrow." Yet in spite of this wonderful industry of the great man his
letters never got written, so that, says Franklin, "it was about the
beginning of April that I came to New York, and I think it was the end
of June before we sail'd." Even then the letters were not ready, and for
two days the vessel had to accompany his lordship's fleet on the way
towards Louisburg, before she got leave to go upon her own proper
voyage. It is entertaining to hear that this same lord, during his stay
in America, detained other packets for other letters, until their
bottoms got so foul and worm-eaten that they were unseaworthy. He was
irreverently likened by those who waited on his pleasure to "St. George
on the signs, always on horseback, and never rides on." He was at last
removed by Mr. Pitt, because that energetic minister said "that he never
heard from him, and could not know what was doing."
Escaping at last from a detention more tedious, if less romantic, than
any which ever befell Ulysses, Franklin steered for England. The vessel
was "several times chas'd" by French cruisers, and later was actually
within a few lengths of being wrecked on the Scilly rocks. Franklin
wrote to his wife that if he were a Roman Catholic he should probably
vow a chapel to some saint; but, as he was not, he should much like to
vow a lighthouse. At length, however, he came safely into Falmouth, and
on July 27, 1757, arrived in London.
Immediately he was taken to see Lord Granville, president of the
council; and his account of the interview is too striking not to be
given entire. His lordship, he says,
"received me with great civility; and after some questions
respecting the present state of affairs in America and discourse
thereupon, he said to me: 'You Americans have wrong ideas of the
nature of your constitution; you contend that the king's
instructions to his governors are not laws, and think yourselves at
liberty to regard or disregard them at your own discretion. But
these instructions are not like the pocket instructions given to a
minister going abroad, for regulating his conduct on some trifling
point of ceremony. They are first drawn up by judges learned in the
laws; they are then considered, debated, and perhaps amended, in
council, after which they are signed by the king. They are then, so
far as they relate to you, the _law of the land_, for the king is
the _legislator of the colonies_.' I told his lordship this was new
doctrine to me. I had always understood from our charters that our
laws were to be made by our assemblies, to be presented indeed to
the king for his royal assent; but that being once given, the king
could not repeal or alter them. And as the assemblies could not
make permanent laws without his assent, so neither could he make a
law for them without theirs. He assured me I was totally mistaken.
I did not think so, however; and his lordship's conversation having
somewhat alarmed me as to what might be the sentiments of the court
concerning us, I wrote it down as soon as I returned to my
lodgings."[8]
[Note 8: _Works_, i. 295, 296; see also an account, substantially
the same, in letter to Bowdoin, January 13, 1772.]
Granville also defended the recent act of Parliament laying "grievous
restrictions on the export of provisions from the British colonies," the
intent being to distress the American possessions of France by famine.
His lordship said: "America must not do anything to interfere with Great
Britain in the European markets." Franklin replied: "If we plant and
reap, and must not ship, your lordship should apply to Parliament for
transports to bring us all back again."
Next came an interview with the proprietaries. Each side declared itself
disposed towards "reasonable accommodations;" but Franklin supposed that
"each party had its own ideas of what should be meant by _reasonable_."
Nothing came of all this palaver; which only meant that time was being
wasted to no better purpose than to show that the two parties were "very
wide, and so far from each other in [their] opinions as to discourage
all hope of agreement." But this had long been evident. The lawyer of
the proprietaries was then put forward. He was a "proud, angry man,"
with a "mortal enmity" toward Franklin; for the two had exchanged
buffets more than once already, and the "proud angry man" had been hit
hard. It had been his professional duty, as counsel for the Penns, to
prepare many papers to be used by their governor in the course of their
quarrels with the Assembly. It had usually fallen to Franklin's lot to
draft the replies of the Assembly, and by Franklin's own admission these
documents of his, like those which they answered, were "often tart and
sometimes indecently abusive." Franklin now found his old antagonist so
excited that it seemed best to refuse to have any direct dealings with
him.
The proprietaries then put their interests in charge of Attorney-General
Pratt, afterwards Lord Camden, and the Solicitor-General Charles Yorke,
afterward lord chancellor. These legal luminaries consumed "a year,
wanting eight days" before they were in a condition to impart light; and
during that period Franklin could of course achieve nothing with the
proprietaries. After all, the proprietaries ignored and insulted him,
and made further delay by sending a message to the Assembly of
Pennsylvania, wherein they complained of Franklin's "rudeness," and
professed themselves "willing to accommodate matters," if a "person of
candour" should be sent to treat with them. The only reply to their
message came in the pointed and intelligible shape of an act "taxing the
proprietary estate in common with the estates of the people." Much
disturbed, the proprietaries now obtained a hearing before the king in
council. They requested his majesty to set aside this tax act, and
several other acts which had been passed within two years by the
Assembly. Of these other acts some were repealed, according to the
prayer of the proprietaries; but more were allowed to stand. These were,
however, of comparatively little consequence; the overshadowing
grievance for the Penns lay in this taxation of their property.
Concerning this it was urged by their counsel that the proprietaries
were held in such odium by the people that, if left to the popular
"mercy in apportioning the taxes, they would be ruined." The other side,
of course, vehemently denied that there was the slightest ground for
such a suspicion.
In June, 1760, the board of trade rendered a report very unfavorable to
the Assembly. Their language showed that they had been much affected by
the appearance of popular encroachments, and by the allegations of an
intention on the part of the colonists "to establish a democracy in
place of his majesty's government." Their advice was to bring "the
constitution back to its proper principles; to restore to the crown, in
the person of the proprietaries, its just prerogative; to check the
growing influence of assemblies, by distinguishing, what they are
perpetually confounding, the executive from the legislative power." News
of this alarming document reached Franklin just as he was about to start
upon a trip through Ireland. It put an end to that pleasure; he had to
set to work on the moment, with all the zeal and by all the means he
could compass, to counteract this fulmination. Just how he achieved so
difficult an end is not recorded; but it appears that he succeeded in
securing a further hearing, in the progress of which Lord Mansfield
"rose, and beckoning me, took me into the clerk's chambers, ... and
asked me, if I was really of opinion that no injury would be done to the
proprietary estate in the execution of the act. I said: Certainly.
'Then,' says he, 'you can have little objection to enter into an
engagement to assure that point.' I answered: None at all." Thereupon a
paper of this purport, binding personally upon Franklin and upon Mr.
Charles, the resident agent of the province, was drawn up, and was duly
executed by them both; and on August 28 the lords filed an amended
report, in which they said that the act taxing the proprietary estates
upon a common basis with those of other owners was "fundamentally wrong
and unjust and ought to be repealed, _unless_ six certain amendments
were made therein." These amendments were, in substance, the
undertakings entered into in the bond of the colonial agents. Franklin
soon afterward had occasion to review this whole business. He showed
that of the six amendments, five were immaterial, since they only
expressed with greater clearness the intent of the Assembly. He admitted
that the sixth was of more consequence. It seems that £100,000 had been
voted, appropriated, raised, and expended, chiefly for the defense of
the colony. The manner of doing this was to issue paper money to this
amount, to make it legal tender, and then to retire it by the proceeds
of the tax levy. The proprietaries insisted that they could not be
compelled to receive their rents in this money, and the lords now found
for them. Franklin acknowledged that herein perhaps the lords were right
and the Assembly wrong; but he added this scathing paragraph:--
"But if he cannot on these considerations quite excuse the
Assembly, what will he think of those honourable proprietaries,
who, when paper money was issued in their colony for the _common
defense_ of their vast estates with those of the people, could
nevertheless wish to be exempted from their share of the
unavoidable disadvantages. Is there upon earth a man besides, with
any conception of what is honest, with any notion of honor, with
the least tincture in his veins of the gentleman, but would have
blushed at the thought, but would have rejected with disdain such
undue preference, if it had been offered him? Much less would he
have struggled for it, moved heaven and earth to obtain it,
resolved to ruin thousands of his tenants by a repeal of the act,
rather than miss of it, and enforce it afterwards by an
audaciously wicked instruction, forbidding aids to his king, and
exposing the province to destruction, unless it was complied with.
And yet, these are honourable men!"
This was, however, altogether a subordinate issue. The struggle had
really been conducted to determine whether the proprietary estate should
be taxed like other estates, and the decision upheld such taxation. This
was a complete triumph for the Assembly and their representative. "But
let the proprietaries and their discreet deputies hereafter recollect
and remember," said Franklin, "that the same august tribunal, which
censured some of the modes and circumstances of that act, did at the
same time establish and confirm the grand principle of the act, namely:
'That the proprietary estate ought, with other estates, to be taxed;'
and thereby did, in effect, determine and pronounce that the opposition
so long made in various shapes to that just principle, by the
proprietaries, was 'fundamentally _wrong_ and _unjust_!'"
It was a long while before the Assembly found leisure to attend to that
engagement of their agents which stipulated for an investigation to see
whether the proprietaries had not been unduly and excessively assessed.
But at length, after having had the spur of reminder constantly applied
to their laggard memories, they appointed a committee to inquire and
report concerning the valuations made by the tax-gatherers.
This committee reported that--
"there has not been any injustice done to the proprietaries, or
attempts made to rate or assess any part of their estates higher
than the estates of the like kind belonging to the inhabitants are
rated and assessed; but, on the contrary, ... their estates are
rated, in many instances, below others."
So the matter ended.
Franklin had been detained a little more than three years about this
business. At its conclusion he anticipated a speedy return home; but he
had to stay yet two years more to attend to sundry matters smaller in
importance, but which were advanced almost as slowly. Partly such delay
was because the aristocrats of the board of trade and the privy council
had not the habits of business men, but consulted their own noble
convenience in the transaction of affairs; and partly it was because
procrastination was purposely employed by his opponents, who harassed
him and blocked his path by every obstacle, direct and indirect, which
they could put in his way. For they seemed to hope for some turn in
affairs, some event, or some too rapid advance of the popular party in
America, which should arouse the royal resentment against the colonists
and so militate on their side. Delay was easily brought about by them.
They had money, connections, influence, and that familiarity with men
and ways which came from their residence in England; while Franklin, a
stranger on an unpopular errand, representing before an aristocratic
government a parcel of tradespeople and farmers who lived in a distant
land and were charged with being both niggardly and disaffected, found
that he could make only difficult and uncertain progress. He was like
one who sails a race not only against hostile winds and tides, but also
in strange waters where the shoals and rocks are unknown, and where
invisible currents ceaselessly baffle his course. His lack of personal
importance hampered him exasperatingly. Thus during his prolonged stay
he repeatedly made every effort in his power to obtain an audience of
William Pitt. But not even for once could he succeed. A provincial
agent, engaged in a squabble about taxing proprietary lands, was too
small a man upon too small a business to consume the precious time of
the great prime minister, who was endeavoring to dominate the
embroilments and intrigues of all Europe, to say nothing of the
machinations of his opponents at home. So the subalterns of Mr. Pitt met
Franklin, heard what he had to say, sifted it through the sieve of their
own discretion, and bore to the ears of their principal only such
compends as they thought worthy of attention.
But the vexation of almost endless delay had its alleviations,
apparently much more than enough to offset it. Early in September, 1757,
that is to say some five or six weeks after his landing, Franklin was
taken very ill of an intermittent fever, which lasted for eight weeks.
During his convalescence he wrote to his wife that the agreeable
conversation of men of learning, and the notice taken of him by persons
of distinction, soothed him under this painful absence from family and
friends; yet these solaces would not hold him there another week, were
it not for duty to his country and the hope of being able to do it
service. But after the early homesickness wore off, a great attachment
for England took its place. He found himself a man of note among
scientists there, who gave him a ready welcome and showed a courteous
and flattering recognition of his high distinction in their pursuits.
Thence it was easy to penetrate into the neighboring circle of
literature, wherein he made warm personal friends, such as Lord Kames,
David Hume, Dr. Robertson, and others. From time to time he was a guest
at many a pleasant country seat, and at the universities. He found
plenty of leisure, too, for travel, and explored the United Kingdom very
thoroughly. When he went to Edinburgh he was presented with the freedom
of the city; and the University of St. Andrews conferred on him the
degree of Doctor of Laws; later, Oxford did the same. He even had time
for a trip into the Low Countries. As months and finally years slipped
away, with just enough of occupation of a dignified character to save
him from an annoying sense of idleness, with abundant opportunities for
social pleasure, and with a very gratifying deference shown towards
himself, Franklin, who liked society and did not dislike flattery, began
to think the mother country no such bad place. For an intellectual and
social career London certainly had advantages over Philadelphia. Mr.
Strahan, the well-known publisher of those days, whom Franklin used
affectionately to call Straney, became his close friend, and was very
insistent with him that he should leave the provinces and take up a
permanent residence in England. He baited his hook with an offer of his
son in marriage with Franklin's daughter Sarah. He had never seen Sarah,
but he seems to have taken it for granted that any child of her father
must be matrimonially satisfactory. Franklin wrote home to his wife that
the young man was eligible, and that there were abundant funds in the
Strahan treasury, but that he did not suppose that she would be able to
overcome her terror of the ocean voyage. Indeed, this timidity on the
part of his wife was more than once put forward by him as if it were
really the feather which turned the scale in the choice of his future
residence.
Franklin himself also was trying his hand at match-making. He had taken
a great fancy to a young lady by the name of Mary Stevenson, with whom,
when distance prevented their meeting, he kept up a constant
correspondence concerning points of physical science. He now became very
pressing with his son William to wed this learned maiden; but the young
man possibly did not hold a taste for science to be the most winning
trait in woman; at any rate, having bestowed his affections elsewhere,
he refused to transfer them. So Franklin was compelled to give up his
scheme, though with an extreme reluctance, which he expressed to the
rejected damsel with amusing openness. Had either of these matrimonial
bonds been made fast, it is not improbable that Franklin would have
lived out the rest of his life as a friend of the colonies in England.
But his lot was otherwise cast; a second time he escaped, though
narrowly, the prospect of dying an Englishman and the subject of a king.
At the moment he was not altogether glad that matters worked thus. On
August 17, 1762, he wrote from Portsmouth to Lord Kames:--
"I am now waiting here only for a wind to waft me to America; but
cannot leave this happy island and my friends in it without extreme
regret, though I am going to a country and a people that I love. I
am going from the old world to the new; and I fancy I feel like
those who are leaving this world for the next: grief at the
parting; fear of the passage; hope of the future. These different
passions all affect their minds at once; and these have _tendered_
me down exceedingly."
And six days later, from the same place, he wrote to Strahan: "I cannot,
I assure you, quit even this disagreeable place, without regret, as it
carries me still farther from those I love, and from the opportunities
of hearing of their welfare. The attraction of reason is at present for
the other side of the water, but that of inclination will be for this
side. You know which usually prevails. I shall probably make but this
one vibration and settle here forever. Nothing will prevent it, if I
can, as I hope I can, prevail with Mrs. F. to accompany me, especially
if we have a peace." Apparently the Americans owe a great debt of
gratitude to Mrs. Franklin's fearfulness of the untrustworthy Atlantic.
Before dismissing this stay of Franklin in England a word should be said
concerning his efforts for the retention of Canada by the British, as
spoils of war. The fall of Quebec, in the autumn of 1759, practically
concluded the struggle in America. The French were utterly spent; they
had no food, no money; they had fought with desperate courage and heroic
self-devotion; they could honestly say that they had stood grimly in the
last trench, and had been slaughtered there until the starved and
shattered remnant could not find it in their exhausted human nature
longer to conduct a contest so thoroughly finished. In Europe, France
was hardly less completely beaten. At the same time the singular
position of affairs existed that the triumphant conqueror was even more
resolutely bent upon immediate peace than were the conquered. George
III., newly come to the throne, set himself towards this end with all
the obstinacy of his resolute nature. It became a question of terms, and
eager was the discussion thereof. The colonies were profoundly
interested, for a question sharply argued was: whether England should
retain Guadaloupe or Canada. She had conquered both, but it seemed to
be admitted that she must restore one. It was even then a comical bit of
political mathematics to establish anything like an equation between the
two, nor could it possibly have been done with reference to intrinsic
values. It was all very well to dilate upon the sugar crop of the
island, its trade, its fertility, its harborage. Every one knew that
Canada could outweigh all these things fifty times over. But into the
Guadaloupe scale was dropped a weighty consideration, which was clearly
stated in an anonymous pamphlet attributed to William Burke. This writer
said:--
"If the people of our colonies find no check from Canada, they will
extend themselves almost without bound into the inland parts. They
will increase infinitely from all causes. What the consequence will
be, to have a numerous, hardy, independent people, possessed of a
strong country, communicating little or not at all with England, I
leave to your own reflections. By eagerly grasping at extensive
territory we may run the risk, and in no very distant period, of
losing what we now possess. A neighbor that keeps us in some awe is
not always the worst of neighbors. So that, far from sacrificing
Guadaloupe to Canada, perhaps, if we might have Canada without any
sacrifice at all, we ought not to desire it. There should be a
balance of power in America.... The islands, from their weakness,
can never revolt; but, if we acquire all Canada, we shall soon find
North America itself too powerful and too populous to be governed
by us at a distance."
From many other quarters came the same warning predictions.[9]
[Note 9: Bancroft, _Hist. U. S._ iv. 363-365.]
Franklin watched the controversy with deep interest and no small
anxiety. As the argument grew heated he could no longer hold his hand;
he cast into the Canadian scale an able pamphlet, ingenuous in the main
if not in all the details. It is not worth while to rehearse what he had
to say upon mercantile points, or even concerning the future growth of a
great American empire. What he had really to encounter was the argument
that it was sound policy to leave Canada in possession of the French.
Those who pretended to want Guadaloupe did not so much really want it as
they did wish to have Canada remain French. To make good this latter
point they had to show, first, that French ownership involved no serious
danger to the English possessions; second, that it brought positive
advantages. To the first proposition they said that the French had fully
learned their lesson of inferiority, and that a few forts on the
frontier would easily overawe the hostile Indians. To the second
proposition, they elaborated the arguments of William Burke. Franklin
replied that the war-parties of braves would easily pass by the forts in
the forests, and after burning, pillaging, murdering, and scalping,
would equally easily and safely return. Nothing save a Chinese wall the
whole length of the western frontier would suffice for protection
against savages. Then, with one of those happy illustrations of which
he was a master, he said: "In short, long experience has taught our
planters that they cannot rely upon forts as a security against Indians;
the inhabitants of Hackney might as well rely upon the Tower of London,
to secure them against highwaymen and house-breakers." The admirable
simile could neither be answered nor forgotten.
Concerning the positive desirability of leaving the French as masters of
Canada to "check" the growth of the colonies, Franklin indignantly
exclaimed: "It is a modest word, this '_check_' for massacring men,
women, and children!" If Canada is to be "restored on this principle,
... will not this be telling the French in plain terms, that the horrid
barbarisms they perpetrate with Indians on our colonists are agreeable
to us; and that they need not apprehend the resentment of a government
with whose views they so happily concur." But he had the audacity to say
that he was abundantly certain that the mother country could never have
any occasion to dread the power of the colonies. He said:--
"I shall next consider the other supposition, that their growth may
render them _dangerous_. Of this, I own, I have not the least
conception, when I consider that we have already _fourteen separate
governments_ on the maritime coast of the continent; and, if we
extend our settlements, shall probably have as many more behind
them on the inland side." By reason of the different governors,
laws, interests, religions, and manners of these, "their jealousy
of each other is so great, that, however necessary a union of the
colonies has long been, for their common defence and security
against their enemies, and how sensible soever each colony has been
of that necessity, yet they have never been able to effect such a
union among themselves, nor even to agree in requesting the mother
country to establish it for them." If they could not unite for
self-defence against the French and the murderous savages, "can it
reasonably be supposed there is any danger of their uniting against
their own nation, which protects and encourages them, with which
they have so many connexions and ties of blood, interest, and
affection, and which, it is well known, they all love much more
than they love one another?
"In short there are so many causes that must operate to prevent it,
that I will venture to say a union amongst them for such a purpose
is not merely improbable, it is impossible. And if the union of the
whole is impossible, the attempt of a part must be madness.... When
I say such a union is impossible, I mean without the most grievous
tyranny and oppression.... _The waves do not rise but when the
winds blow_.... What such an administration as the Duke of Alva's
in the Netherlands might produce, I know not; but this, I think, I
have a right to deem impossible."
We read these words, even subject to the mild saving of the final
sentences, with some bewilderment. Did their shrewd and well-informed
writer believe what he said? Was he casting this political horoscope in
good faith? Or was he only uttering a prophecy which he desired, if
possible, and for his own purposes to induce others to believe? If he
was in earnest, Attorney-General Pratt was a better astrologer. "For all
what you Americans say of your loyalty," he said to Franklin, "and
notwithstanding your boasted affection, you will one day set up for
independence." "No such idea," said Franklin, "is entertained by the
Americans, or ever will be, unless you grossly abuse them." "Very true,"
said Pratt; "that I see will happen, and will produce the event."[10]
Choiseul, the able French minister, expressed his wonder that the "great
Pitt should be so attached to the acquisition of Canada," which, being
in the hands of France, would keep the "colonies in that dependence
which they will not fail to shake off the moment Canada shall be
ceded."[11] Vergennes saw the same thing not less clearly; and so did
many another.
[Note 10: Bancroft, _Hist. U. S._ iv. 380.]
[Note 11: _Ibid_. iv. 399.]
If Franklin was really unable to foresee in this business those
occurrences which others predicted with such confidence, at least he
showed a grand conception of the future, and his vision took in more
distant and greater facts and larger truths of statesmanship than were
compassed by the British ministers. Witness what he wrote to Lord
Kames:--
"I have long been of opinion that the foundations of the future
grandeur and stability of the British empire lie in America.... I
am therefore by no means for restoring Canada. If we keep it, all
the country from the St. Lawrence to the Mississippi will in
another century be filled with British people. Britain itself will
become vastly more populous by the immense increase to its
commerce; the Atlantic sea will be covered with your trading ships;
and your naval power, thence continually increasing, will extend
your influence round the whole globe, and awe the world."
Whatever regret Franklin may have felt at not being able to remain in
England was probably greatly mitigated if not entirely dissipated by the
cordial reception which he met with at home. On December 2, 1762, he
wrote to Strahan that the reports of the diminution of his friends were
all false; that ever since his arrival his house had been full of a
succession of them from morning till night, congratulating him on his
return. The Assembly honored him with a vote of thanks, and also voted
him £3000 towards defraying his expenses. It was, of course, much less
than he had expended during an absence of nearly six years; but it seems
that he considered that, since much of his time had been passed in the
enjoyment of an agreeable leisure, he should bear a corresponding part
of the expense. While on the sea he had been chosen unanimously, as
indeed had been done in each year of his absence, a member of that body;
and he was told that, if he had not got so privately into town, he
should have been met by an escort of 500 horsemen. All this must have
been very gratifying.
[Illustration: De Vergennes]
A different kind of tribute, somewhat indirect, but none the less
intelligible, was at the same time paid to him by the British
government. In the autumn of 1762 his illegitimate son, William
Franklin, was appointed governor of New Jersey. This act created a great
storm of wrath from some of the provincial aristocratic party, and was
vehemently railed at as an "indignity," a "dishonor and disgrace," an
"insult." After all, it failed of its obvious purpose. The government
shot brought down the wrong bird, common carrion, while the one aimed at
never swerved in the slightest from his course. William, whom no one
cared for in the least, became a confirmed royalist, and ultimately, as
a Tory refugee, for years continued to absorb a pension for which he
could return no adequate consideration. So far as Benjamin Franklin was
concerned, he was at first much pleased; but his political views and
course were not in the slightest degree affected. On the contrary, as
the scheme developed, and the influence on the younger man became
apparent, the final result was an alienation between father and son,
which was only partially healed so late as 1784, just before the former
returned from Europe for the last time.