Sarah Bache, was now mistress of his new house, which had been built
during his absence. The day after his arrival the Assembly made him one
of its deputies in the Continental Congress which was soon to meet in
Philadelphia. For the next eighteen months (from his arrival on the 5th
of May, 1775, until October 26, 1776, when he sailed for France) every
hour of his time seems to have been occupied with labors which would
have been enough for a man in his prime, but for one seventy years old
were a heavy burden.
He was made Postmaster-General of the united colonies, and prepared a
plan for a line of posts from Maine to Georgia. He dropped all his
conservatism and became very earnest for the war, but was humorous and
easy-going about everything. He had, of course, the privilege of
franking his own letters; but instead of the usual form, "Free. B.
Franklin," he would mark them "B free Franklin." He prepared a plan or
constitution for the union of the colonies, which will be considered
hereafter. Besides his work in Congress, he was soon made a member of
the Pennsylvania Legislature, and was on the Committee of Safety which
was preparing the defences of the province, and was, in effect, the
executive government in place of the proprietary governor. From six to
nine in the morning he was with this committee, and from nine till four
in the afternoon he attended the session of Congress. He assisted in
devising plans for obstructing the channel of the Delaware River, and
the _chevaux-de-frise_, as they were called, which were placed in the
water were largely of his design.
It was extremely difficult for the Congress to obtain gunpowder for the
army. The colonists had always relied on Europe for their supply, and
were unaccustomed to manufacturing it. Franklin suggested that they
should return to the use of bows and arrows:
"These were good weapons not wisely laid aside: 1st. Because a
man may shoot as truly with a bow as with a common musket. 2dly.
He can discharge four arrows in the time of charging and
discharging one bullet. 3dly. His object is not taken from his
view by the smoke of his own side. 4thly. A flight of arrows
seen coming upon them, terrifies and disturbs the enemies'
attention to their business. 5thly. An arrow striking any part
of a man puts him _hors de combat_ till it is extracted. 6thly.
Bows and arrows are more easily provided everywhere than muskets
and ammunition."
This suggestion seems less strange when we remember that the musket of
that time was a smooth-bore and comparatively harmless at three hundred
yards.
[Illustration: FRANKLIN'S LETTER TO STRAHAN]
His letters to his old friends in England were full of resentment
against the atrocities of the British fleet and army, especially the
burning of the town of Portland, Maine. It was at this time that he
wrote his famous letter to his old London friend, Mr. Strahan, a
reproduction of which, taken from the copy at the State Department,
Washington, is given in this volume. It is a most curiously worded,
half-humorous letter, and the most popular one he ever wrote. It has
been reprinted again and again, and _fac-similes_ of it have appeared
for a hundred years, some of them in school-books.
He could have desired nothing better than its appearance in
school-books. One of his pet projects was that all American
school-children should be taught how shockingly unjust and cruel Great
Britain had been to her colonies; they must learn, he said, to hate her;
and while he was in France he prepared a long list of the British
outrages which he considered contrary to all the rules of civilized
warfare. He intended to have a picture of each one prepared by French
artists and sent to America, that the lesson of undying hatred might be
burnt into the youthful mind.
In the autumn of 1775 he went with two other commissioners to
Washington's army before Boston to arrange for supplies and prepare
general plans for the conduct of the war. In the following March he was
sent to Canada with Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll, of Maryland, to
win over the Canadians to the side of the revolted colonies. Charles
Carroll's brother John, a Roman Catholic priest, accompanied them at the
request of the members of Congress, who hoped that he would be able to
influence the French Canadian clergy.
It was a terrible journey for Franklin, now an old man; for as they
advanced north they found the ground covered with snow and the lakes
filled with floating ice. They spent five days beating up the Hudson in
a little sloop to Albany, and two weeks after they had started they
reached Lake George. General Schuyler, who lived near Albany,
accompanied them after they had rested at his house, and assisted in
obtaining wagons and boats. Franklin was ill with what he afterwards
thought was an incipient attack of the gout which his constitution
wanted strength to develop completely. At Saratoga he made up his mind
that he would never see his home again, and wrote several letters of
farewell.
But by the care and assistance of John Carroll, the priest, with whom he
contracted a life-long friendship, he was able to press on, and they
reached the southern end of Lake George, where they embarked on a large
flat-bottomed boat without a cabin, and sailed the whole length of the
lake through the floating ice in about a day. Their boat was hauled by
oxen across the land to Lake Champlain, and after a delay of five days
they embarked again amidst the floating ice. Sailing and rowing,
sleeping under a canvas cover at night, and going ashore to cook their
meals, they made the upper end of the lake in about four days, and
another day in wagons brought them to Montreal.
Their mission was fruitless. The army under General Montgomery which had
invaded the country had been unsuccessful against the British, had
contracted large debts with the Canadians which it was unable to pay,
and the Canadians would not join in the Revolution. So Franklin and the
commissioners had to make their toilsome journey back again without
having accomplished anything; and many years afterwards Franklin
mentioned this journey, which nearly destroyed his life, as one of the
reasons why Congress should vote him extra pay for his services in the
Revolution.
In June, 1776, Franklin was made a member of the convention which framed
a new constitution for Pennsylvania to supply the place of the old
colonial charter of William Penn, and he was engaged in this work during
the summer, when his other duties permitted; but of this more hereafter.
At the same time he was laboring in the Congress on the question of
declaring independence. He was in favor of an immediate declaration, and
his name is signed to the famous instrument.
During this same summer he also had another conference with Lord Howe,
who had arrived in New York harbor in command of the British fleet, and
again wanted to patch up a peace. He failed, of course, for he had
authority from his government only to receive the submission of the
colonies; and he was plainly told by Franklin and the other
commissioners who met him that the colonies would make no treaty with
England except one that acknowledged them as an independent nation.
IX
THE EMBASSY TO FRANCE AND ITS SCANDALS
Franklin's most important duties in the Continental Congress were
connected with his membership of the "Secret Committee," afterwards
known as the "Committee of Correspondence." It was really a committee on
foreign relations, and had been formed for the purpose of corresponding
with the friends of the revolted colonies in Europe and securing from
them advice and assistance. From appointing agents to serve this
committee in France or England, Franklin was soon promoted to be himself
one of the agents and to represent in France the united colonies which
had just declared their independence.
On September 26, 1776, he was given this important mission, not by the
mere appointment of his own committee, but by vote of Congress. He was
to be one of three commissioners of equal powers, who would have more
importance and weight than the mere agents hitherto sent to Europe. The
news received of the friendly disposition of France was very
encouraging, and it was necessary that envoys should be sent with full
authority to take advantage of it. Silas Deane, who had already gone to
France as a secret agent, and Thomas Jefferson were elected as
Franklin's fellow-commissioners. The ill health of Jefferson's wife
compelled him to decline, and Arthur Lee, already acting as an agent for
the colonies in Europe, was elected in his place.
When the result of the first ballot taken in Congress showed that
Franklin was elected, he is said to have turned to Dr. Rush, sitting
near him, and remarked, "I am old and good for nothing; but as the
storekeepers say of their remnants of cloth, I am but a fag end, you may
have me for what you please."
There was, however, fourteen more years of labor in the "fag end," as he
called himself; and the jest was one of those appropriately modest
remarks which he knew so well how to make. He probably looked forward
with not a little satisfaction to the prospect of renewing again those
pleasures of intercourse with the learned and great which he was so
capable of enjoying and which could be found only in Europe. His
reputation was already greater in France than in England. He would be
able to see the evidences of it as well as increase it in this new and
delightful field. But the British newspapers, of course, said that he
had secured this appointment as a clever way of escaping from the
collapse of the rebellion which he shrewdly foresaw was inevitable.
On October 26, 1776, he left Philadelphia very quietly and, accompanied
by his two grandsons, William Temple Franklin and Benjamin Franklin
Bache, drove some fifteen miles down the river to Marcus Hook, where the
"Reprisal," a swift war-vessel of the revolted colonies, awaited him.
She set sail immediately and got out of the river into the ocean as
quickly as possible, for the British desired nothing better than to
capture this distinguished envoy to the court of France. Wickes, the
captain, afterwards famous for the prizes he took from the British, knew
that he must run the gauntlet of the cruisers, and he drove his little
vessel with all sail through the November gales, making Quiberon Bay, on
the coast of France, in thirty-three days.
It was a rough, dangerous, exciting voyage; the venerable philosopher of
seventy years was confined to a little, cramped cabin, more sick and
distressed than he had ever been before on the ocean; and yet he
insisted on taking the temperature of the water every day to test again
his theory of the Gulf Stream. They were chased by cruisers, but the
fleet "Reprisal" could always turn them into fading specks on the
horizon's verge; and as she neared the coast of France she fell in with
some good luck,--two British vessels loaded with lumber, wine, brandy,
and flaxseed, which were duly brought to and carried into a French port
to be sold. The "Reprisal" had on board a small cargo of indigo, which,
with the prizes, was to go towards paying the expense of the mission to
France. In this simple and homely way were the colonies beginning their
diplomatic relations.
The French people received Franklin with an outburst of enthusiasm which
has never been given by them to any other American. So weak from the
sickness of the voyage that he could scarcely stand, the old man was
overwhelmed with attention,--a grand dinner at Nantes, an invitation to
a country house where he expected to find rest, but had none from the
ceaseless throng of visitors. The unexpected and romantic manner of his
arrival, dodging the cruisers and coming in with two great merchantmen
as prizes, aroused the greatest interest and delight. It was like a
brilliant stroke in a play or a tale from the "Arabian Nights," worthy
of French imagination; and here this wonderful American from the woods
had made it an accomplished fact.
The enthusiasm of this reception never abated, but, on the contrary,
soon became extravagant worship, which continued during the nine years
of his residence in France. Even on his arrival they were exaggerating
everything about him, adding four years to his age to make his
adventures seem more wonderful; and Paris waited in as much restless
expectation for his arrival as if he had been a king.
Beneath all this lay, of course, the supreme satisfaction with which the
French contemplated the revolt of the colonies and the inevitable
weakening of their much-hated enemy and rival, Great Britain; and they
had made up their minds to assist in this dismemberment to the utmost of
their ability. They were already familiar with Franklin; his name was a
household word in France; his brilliant discovery of the nature of
lightning appealed strongly to every imagination; "Poor Richard" had
been translated for them, and its shrewd economy and homely wisdom had
been their delight for years. Its author was the synonyme and
personification of liberty,--that liberty which they were just beginning
to rave about, for their own revolution was not twenty years away.
It interested them all the more that the man who represented all this
for them, and whose name seemed to be really a French one, came from the
horrible wilderness of America, the home of interminable dark forests,
filled with savage beasts and still more savage men.
France at that time was the gay, pleasure- and sensation-loving France
which had just been living under the reign of Louis XIV. Sated with
luxury and magnificence, with much intelligence and culture even among
the middle classes, there was no novelty that pleased Frenchmen more
than something which seemed to be close to nature; and when they
discovered that this exceedingly natural man from the woods had also the
severe and serene philosophy of Cato, Phocion, Socrates, and the other
sages of antiquity, combined with a conversation full of wit, point, and
raillery like their own, it is not surprising that they made a perpetual
joy and feast over him. It was so delightful for a lady to pay him a
pretty compliment about having drawn down the fire from heaven, and have
him instantly reply in some most apt phrase of an old man's gallantry;
and then he never failed; there seemed to be no end to his resources.
[Illustration: FRANKLIN CANNOT DIE
(From a French engraving)]
Amidst these brilliant surroundings he wore for a time that shocking old
fur cap which appears in one of his portraits; and although his
biographers earnestly protest that he was incapable of such affectation,
there is every reason to believe that he found that it intensified
the character the French people had already formed of him. Several
writers of the time speak of his very rustic dress, his firm but free
and direct manner which seemed to be the simplicity of a past age. But
if he was willing to encourage their laudation by a little clever
acting, he never carried it too far; and there is no evidence that his
head was ever turned by all this extravagant worship. He was altogether
too shrewd to make such a fatal mistake. He knew the meaning and real
value of it, and nursed it so carefully that he kept it living and fresh
for nine years.
So he went to live in Paris, while the people began to make portraits,
medals, and busts of him, until there were some two hundred different
kinds to be set in rings, watches, snuff-boxes, bracelets,
looking-glasses, and other articles. Within a few days after his arrival
it was the fashion for every one to have a picture of him on their
mantel-piece. He selected for his residence the little village of Passy,
about two miles from the heart of Paris, and not too far from the court
at Versailles. There for nine years his famous letters were dated, and
Franklin at Passy, with his friends, their gardens and their wit, was a
subject of interest and delight to a whole generation of the civilized
world.
M. Ray de Chaumont had there a large establishment called the Hôtel de
Valentinois. In part of it he lived himself, and, to show his devotion
to the cause of America, he insisted that Franklin should occupy the
rest of it as his home and for the business of the embassy free of rent.
This arrangement Franklin accepted in his easy way, and nothing more
was thought of it until precise John Adams arrived from Massachusetts
and was greatly shocked to find an envoy of the United States living in
a Frenchman's house without paying board.
Pleasantly situated, with charming neighbors who never wearied of him,
enjoying the visits and improving conversation of the great men of the
learned and scientific worlds, caressed at court, exchanging repartees
and flirtations with clever women, oppressed at times with terrible
anxiety for his country, but slowly winning success, and dining out six
nights of nearly every week when he was not disabled by the gout, the
old Philadelphia printer cannot be said to have fallen upon very evil
days.
His position was just the reverse of what it had been in England, where
his task had been almost an impossible one. In France everything was in
his favor. There were no Wedderburns or Tory ministers, no powerful
political party opposed to his purposes, and no liberal party with which
he might be tempted to take sides. The whole nation--king, nobles, and
people--was with him. He had only to suggest what was wanted; and,
indeed, a great deal was done without even his suggestion.
This condition of affairs precluded the possibility of his accomplishing
any great feat in diplomacy. The tide being all in his favor, he had
only to take advantage of it and abstain from anything that would check
its flow. Instead of the aggressive course he had seen fit to follow in
England, he must avoid everything which in the least resembled
aggression. He must be complaisant, popular, and encourage the
universal feeling instead of opposing it, and this part he certainly
played to perfection.
He was by no means the sole representative of his country in France, and
considerable work had been accomplished before he arrived. In fact, the
French were ready to do the work themselves without waiting for a
representative. When Franklin was leaving London in 1775 the French
ambassador called upon him and gave him to understand in no doubtful
terms that France would be on the side of the colonies.
It is a mistake to suppose, as has sometimes been done, that some one
person suggested to the French government, or that Franklin himself
suggested or urged, the idea of weakening England by assisting America.
It was a policy the wisdom of which was obvious to every one. As early
as the time of the Stamp Act, Louis XV. sent De Kalb to America to watch
the progress of the rebellion, and to foment it. The English themselves
foresaw and dreaded a French alliance with the colonies. Lord Howe
referred to it in his last interview with Franklin; Beaumarchais argued
about it in long letters to the king; it was favored by the Count
d'Artois, the Duke of Orléans, and the Count de Broglie, not to mention
young Lafayette; and the colonists themselves thought of it as soon as
they thought of resistance. The French king, Louis XVI., who, as an
absolute monarch, disliked rebellion, hesitated for a time; but he was
won over by Vergennes and Beaumarchais.
France had just come out of a long war with England in which she had
lost Canada and valuable possessions in the East and West Indies.
England held the port of Dunkirk, on French soil, and searched French
ships whenever she pleased. France was humiliated and full of
resentment. She had failed to conquer the English colonies; but it would
be almost as good and some slight revenge if she deprived England of
them by helping them to secure their own independence. It would cripple
English commerce, which was rapidly driving that of France from the
ocean. England had in 1768 helped the Corsican rebels against France,
and that was a good precedent for France helping the American rebels
against England.
In the autumn of 1775 the Secret Committee of Congress had sent Thomas
Story to London, Holland, and France to consult with persons friendly to
the colonies. He was also to deliver a letter to Arthur Lee, who had
taken Franklin's place as agent of Massachusetts in London, and this
letter instructed Lee to learn the disposition of foreign powers. A
similar letter was to be delivered to Mr. Dumas in Holland, and soon
after Story's departure M. Penet, a French merchant of Nantes, was sent
to France to buy ammunition, arms, and clothing.
A few months afterwards, in the beginning of 1776, the committee sent to
Paris Silas Deane, of Connecticut, who had served in the Congress. He
was more of a diplomatic representative than any of the others, and was
instructed to procure, if possible, an audience with Vergennes, the
French Minister of Foreign Affairs, suggest the establishment of
friendly relations, the need of arms and ammunition, and finally lead up
to the question whether, if the colonies declared their independence,
they might look upon France as an ally.
Meantime that strange character, Beaumarchais, the author of "The Barber
of Seville" and "The Marriage of Figaro," and still a distinguished
light of French literature, fired by the general enthusiasm for the
Americans, constituted himself their agent and ambassador, and was by no
means an unimportant one. He was the son of a respectable watch-maker,
and when a mere youth had distinguished himself by the invention of an
improvement in escapements, which was stolen by another watch-maker, who
announced it as his own. Beaumarchais appealed to the Academy of
Sciences in a most cleverly written petition, and it decided in his
favor. Great attention had been drawn to him by the contest; he appeared
at court, and was soon making wonderful little watches for the king and
queen; he became a favorite, the familiar friend of the king's
daughters, and his career as an adventurer, courtier, and speculator
began. A most wonderful genius, typical in many ways of his century, few
men have ever lived who could play so many parts, and his excellent
biographer, Loménie, has summed up the occupations in which he excelled:
"Watch-maker, musician, song writer, dramatist, comic writer,
man of fashion, courtier, man of business, financier,
manufacturer, publisher, ship-owner, contractor, secret agent,
negotiator, pamphleteer, orator on certain occasions, a peaceful
man by taste, and yet always at law, engaging, like Figaro, in
every occupation, Beaumarchais was concerned in most of the
events, great or small, which preceded the Revolution."
He traded all over the world, and made three or four fortunes and lost
them; he had at times forty vessels of his own on the ocean, and his
private man-of-war assisted the French navy at the battle of Grenada. In
fact, he was like his great contemporary, Voltaire, who, besides being a
dramatist, a philosopher, a man of letters, and a reformer, was one of
the ablest business men of France, a ship-owner, contractor, and
millionaire.
The resemblance of Franklin to these two men is striking. He showed the
same versatility of talents, though perhaps in less degree. He had the
same strange ability to excel at the same time in both literary and
practical affairs, he had very much the same opinion on religion, and
his morals, like Voltaire's, were somewhat irregular. When we connect
with this his wonderful reputation in France, the adoration of the
people, and the strange way in which during his residence in Paris he
became part of the French nation, we are almost led to believe that
through some hidden process the causes which produced Franklin must have
been largely of French origin. He is, indeed, more French than English,
and seems to belong with Beaumarchais and Voltaire rather than with
Chatham, Burke, or Priestley.
But to return to Beaumarchais and the Revolution. He was carried away by
the importance of the rebellion in America, and devoted his whole soul
to bringing France to the assistance of the colonies. He argued with
the court and the king, visited London repeatedly in the secret service
of his government, and became more than ever convinced of the weakness
of Great Britain.