Benjamin Franklin

CHAPTER VIII

SERVICES IN THE STATES

From the solitude of the ocean to the seething turmoil which Franklin found in the colonies must have been a startling transition. He had come home an old man, lacking but little of the allotted threescore years and ten. He had earned and desired repose, but never before had he encountered such exacting, important, and unremitting labor as immediately fell to his lot. Lexington and Concord fights had taken place a fortnight before he landed, and the news preceded him in Philadelphia by a few days only. Many feelings may be discerned in the brief note which he wrote on May 16 to Dr. Priestley:—

To another correspondent he said that "the feeble Americans, who pelted them all the way, could scarcely keep up with" the rapidly retreating redcoats. But the occurrence of bloodshed had an immense meaning for Franklin; it opened to his vision all the future: an irreconcilable struggle, and finally independence, with a bitter animosity long surviving. He could not address all those who had once been near and dear to him in England as he did the good Dr. Priestley. The letter to Strahan of July 5, 1775, is famous:—

But strained as his relations with Strahan were for a while, it is agreeable to know that the estrangement between such old and close friends was not everlasting.

To write at length concerning Franklin's services during his brief stay at home would involve giving a history of the whole affairs of the colonies at this time. But space presses, and this ground is familiar and has been traversed in other volumes in this series. It seems sufficient, therefore, rather to enumerate than to narrate his various engagements, and thus to reserve more room for less well-known matters.

On the very day after his return, when he had scarce caught the breath of land, he was unanimously elected by the Assembly a delegate to the Provincial Congress. It was an emergency when the utmost must be made of time, brains, and men. By subsequent reëlections he continued to sit in that body until his departure for France. There was business enough before it: the organization of a government, of the army, of the finances; most difficult of all, the arrangement of a national policy, and the harmonizing of conflicting opinions among men of influence at home. In all that came before the Congress Franklin was obliged to take his full share. He seems to have been upon all the busy and important committees. There were more ardent spirits, greater propelling forces, than he was; but his wisdom was transcendent. Dickinson and his followers were bent upon sending one more petition to the king, a scheme which was ridiculed almost with anger by the more advanced and resolute party. But Franklin's counsel was to give way to their wishes, as being the best policy for bringing them later into full accord with the party which was for war. He had no hopes of any other good result from the proceeding; but it also chimed with his desire to put the English as much as possible in the wrong. In the like direction was a clause in his draft of a declaration, intended to be issued by Washington in the summer of 1775. To counteract the charge that the colonies refused to contribute to the cost of their own protection, he proposed that, if Great Britain would abolish her monopoly of the colonial trade, allowing free commerce between the colonies and all the rest of the world, they would pay into the English sinking fund £100,000 annually for one hundred years; which would be more than sufficient, if "faithfully and inviolably applied for that purpose, ... to extinguish all her present national debt."

At the close of this document he administered a telling fillip in his humorous style to that numerous class who seek to control practical affairs by sentiment, and who now would have had their prattle about the "mother country" outweigh the whole accumulation of her very unmaternal oppression and injustice. Concerning the allegation of an unfilial ingratitude, he said: "There is much more reason for retorting that charge on Britain, who not only never contributes any aid, nor affords, by an exclusive commerce, any advantages to Saxony, her mother country; but, no longer since than the last war, without the least provocation, subsidized the king of Prussia while he ravaged that mother country, and carried fire and sword into its capital.... An example we hope no provocation will induce us to imitate." Had this declaration ever been used, which it was not, the dignity of the grave general who commanded the American forces would have compelled him to cut off this closing snapper from the lash, amusing as it was. The witty notion had found a more appropriate place in the newspaper article which had dumfounded the guests at the English country house. Commenting upon this, Mr. Parton well says: "Here perhaps we have one of the reasons why Dr. Franklin, who was universally confessed to be the ablest pen in America, was not always asked to write the great documents of the Revolution. He would have put a joke into the Declaration of Independence, if it had fallen to him to write it.... His jokes, the circulating medium of Congress, were as helpful to the cause as Jay's conscience or Adams's fire; ... but they were out of place in formal, exact, and authoritative papers."[37]

A document which cost Dr. Franklin much more labor than this declaration was a plan for a union of the colonies, which he brought forward July 21, 1775. It was the "first sketch of a plan of confederation which is known to have been presented to Congress." No final action was ever taken upon it. It contained a provision that Ireland, the West India Islands, the Canadian possessions, and Florida might, upon application, be received into the confederation.

Franklin's duties in Congress were ample to consume his time and strength; but they were far from being all that he had to do. Almost immediately after his return he was made chairman of a committee for organizing the postal service of the country. In execution of this duty he established in substance that system which has ever since prevailed; and he was then at once appointed postmaster-general, with a salary of £1000 per annum. When franking letters he amused himself by changing the formula, "Free: B. Franklin" into "B. Free, Franklin."

He was next made chairman of the provincial committee of safety, a body which began its sittings at the comfortable, old-fashioned hour of six o'clock in the morning. Its duty was to call out and organize all the military resources of Pennsylvania, and generally to provide for the defenses of the province. It worked with much efficiency in its novel and difficult department. Among other things, Franklin devised and constructed some ingenious "marine chevaux de frise" for closing the river approaches to Philadelphia.

In October, 1775, he was elected a member of the Assembly of the Province. But this did not add to his labors; for the oath of allegiance had not yet been dispensed with; he would not take it, and resigned his seat.

In September, 1775, Franklin, Lynch of South Carolina, and Harrison of Virginia, as a committee of Congress, were dispatched to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to confer with Washington concerning military affairs. They rode from Philadelphia to the leaguer around Boston in thirteen days. Their business was achieved with no great difficulty; but they lingered a few days more in that interesting camp, and were absent six weeks. General Greene has recorded how he gazed upon Franklin, "that very great man, with silent admiration;" and Abigail Adams tells with what interest she met him whom "from infancy she had been taught to venerate," and how she read in his grave countenance "patriotism in its full lustre" and with it "blended every virtue of a Christian." The phrase was not well chosen to fall from the pen of Mrs. Adams, yet was literally true; Franklin had the virtues, though dissevered from the tenets which that worthy Puritan dame conceived essential to the make-up of a genuine Christian. The time came when her husband would not have let her speak thus in praise of Benjamin Franklin.

In the spring of 1776 Congress was inconsiderate enough to impose upon Franklin a journey to Montreal, there to confer with General Arnold concerning affairs in Canada. It was a severe, even a cruel task to put upon a man of his age; but with his usual tranquil courage he accepted the mission. He met the ice in the rivers, and suffered much from fatigue and exposure; indeed, the carelessness of Congress was near depriving the country of a life which could not have been spared. On April 15 he wrote from Saratoga: "I begin to apprehend that I have undertaken a fatigue that at my time of life may prove too much for me; so I sit down to write to a few friends by way of farewell;" and still the real wilderness with all its hardships lay before him. After he had traversed it he had the poor reward of finding himself on a bootless errand. The Canadian enterprise had no possible future save failure and retreat. There was absolutely nothing which he could do in Canada; he was being wasted there, and resolved to get away as soon as he could. Accordingly he made his painful way homeward; but worn out as he was, he was given scant opportunity to recuperate from this perilous and mistaken journey. The times called upon every patriot to spend all he had of vigor, intellect, money, life itself, for the common cause, and Franklin was no niggard in the stress.

In the spring of 1776 the convention charged to prepare a constitution for the independent State of Pennsylvania was elected. Franklin was a member, and when the convention came together he was chosen to preside over its deliberations. It sat from July 16 to September 28. The constitution which it presented to the people established a legislature of only one house, a feature which Franklin approved and defended. At the close of the deliberations thanks were unanimously voted to him for his services as presiding officer, and for his "able and disinterested advice."

Yet in spite of abundant acts, like this, of real independence taking place upon all sides, profession of it inspired alarm in a large proportion of the people. Congress even declared formally that independence was not aimed at. Sam Adams, disgusted, talked of forming a New England confederacy, and Franklin approved the scheme and said that in such an event he would cast in his lot with the New Englanders. But the stream ran on in spite of some snags in the current. It was not much later that Franklin found himself one of the committee of five elected by ballot to frame a declaration of independence. Had he been called upon to write the document he would certainly have given something more terse and simple than that rotund and magniloquent instrument which Jefferson bequeathed to the unbounded admiration of American posterity. As it was, Franklin's recorded connection with the preparation of that famous paper is confined to the amusing tale about John Thompson, Hatter, wherewith he mitigated the miseries of Jefferson during the debate; and to his familiar bonmot in reply to Harrison's appeal for unanimity: "Yes, we must indeed all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." With this rather grim jest upon his lip, he set his signature to one of the greatest documents in the world's history.

When it came to shaping the machinery of the confederation, the great difficulty, as is well known, lay in establishing a just proportion between the larger and the smaller States. Should they have equal weight in voting, or not? It was a question so vital and so hard to settle that the confederacy narrowly survived the strain. Franklin was decidedly in favor of making the voting value proportionate to the size, measured by population, of the several States. He said: Let the smaller colonies give equal money and men, and then let them have an equal vote. If they have an equal vote without bearing equal burdens, a confederation based on such iniquitous principles will not last long. To set out with an unequal representation is unreasonable. There is no danger that the larger States will absorb the smaller. The same apprehension was expressed when Scotland was united to England. It was then said that the whale had swallowed Jonah; but Lord Bute's administration came in, and then it was seen that Jonah had swallowed the whale. That Scotch favorite was the provocation for many witty sayings, but for none better than this.

In July, 1776, Lord Howe arrived, in command of the English fleet. He immediately sought to open a friendly correspondence with Franklin. He had played a prominent part in those efforts at conciliation which had come to naught just before Franklin's departure from England; and he now renewed his generous attempt to act as a mediator. There is no doubt that this nobleman, as kindly as brave, would far rather have reconciled the Americans than have fought them. By permission of Congress Franklin replied by a long letter, not deficient in courtesy of language, but full of argument upon the American side, and in a tone which there was no misconceiving. Its closing paragraph was:—

If the Englishman had been hot-tempered, this would probably have ended the correspondence; as it was, he only delayed for a while before writing civilly again. The battle of Long Island next occurred, and Lord Howe fancied that that disaster might bring the Americans to their senses. He paroled General Sullivan, and by him sent a message to Congress: That he and his brother had full powers to arrange an accommodation; that they could not at present treat with Congress as such, but would like to confer with some of its members as private gentlemen. After a long debate it was resolved to send a committee of Congress to meet the admiral and the general, and Franklin, John Adams, and Edward Rutledge were deputed. Lord Howe received them with much courtesy, and gave them a lunch before proceeding to business. But when luncheon was over and the substance of the errand was reached, it was very shortly disposed of. His lordship opened with a speech of elaborate civility, and concluded by saying that he felt for America as for a brother, and if America should fall he should feel and lament it like the loss of a brother. Franklin replied: "My lord, we will use our utmost endeavors to save your lordship that mortification." But Lord Howe did not relish this Yankee wit. He continued by a long, explanatory, conciliatory address. At its close there was necessarily brought up the question of the character in which the envoys came. His lordship thought that the idea of Congress might "easily be thrown out at present." Franklin adroitly settled it: "Your lordship may consider us in any view you think proper. We on our part are at liberty to consider ourselves in our real character. But there is really no necessity on this occasion to distinguish between members of Congress and individuals. The conversation may be held as among friends." Mr. Adams made one of those blunt and pugnacious remarks which, whenever addressed to Englishmen, are sure to endear the speaker to the American nation. Mr. Rutledge laid over it the courtesy of a gentleman; and then the conference came to the point.

Lord Howe expressed his majesty's earnest desire for a permanent peace and for the happiness of his American subjects, his willingness for a reform and for a redress of grievances. But he admitted that the Declaration of Independence was an awkward obstacle. He asked: "Is there no way of treating back of this step of independency?" Franklin replied at some length, closing with the words: "Forces have been sent out, and towns have been burnt. We cannot now expect happiness under the domination of Great Britain. All former attachments are obliterated. America cannot return to the domination of Great Britain, and I imagine that Great Britain means to rest it upon force." Adams said: "It is not in our power to treat otherwise than as independent States; and for my own part, I avow my determination never to depart from the idea of independency." Rutledge said: "With regard to the people consenting to come again under the English government, it is impossible. I can answer for South Carolina." Lord Howe replied: "If such are your sentiments, I can only regret that it is not in my power to bring about the accommodation I wish." Thus the fruitlessness of such efforts was made manifest; of all concerned, it is probable that the most amiable of Englishmen was the only one who was disappointed at the result. The Americans were by no means displeased at having another and conclusive proof to convince the doubting ones that reconciliation was an impossibility.

Franklin's language was expressive of the way in which his mind had worked. Until it came to the "cutting of throats," he had never altogether and avowedly given up hopes that, from the reservoir of unknown things in the future, something might in time come forth that would bring about a reasonable accommodation. But the first bloodshed effected a change in his feelings as irrevocable as that which Hawthorne so subtly represents as having been worked in the nature of Donatello by a violent taking of life. "Bunker's Hill" excited him; the sack of Falmouth affected him with terrible intensity. When the foolish petition of the Dickinson party was sent to England, he wrote to Dr. Priestley that the colonies had given Britain one more chance of recovering their friendship, "which, however, I think she has not sense enough to embrace; and so I conclude she has lost them forever. She has begun to burn our seaport towns, secure, I suppose, that we shall never be able to return the outrage in kind.... If she wishes to have us subjects ... she is now giving us such miserable specimens of her government that we shall ever detest and avoid it, as a combination of robbery, murder, famine, fire, and pestilence." His humor could not be altogether repressed, but there were sternness and bitterness underlying it: "Tell our dear, good friend, Dr. Price, who sometimes has his doubts and despondencies about our firmness, that America is determined and unanimous; a very few Tories and placemen excepted, who will probably soon export themselves. Britain, at the expense of three millions, has killed one hundred and fifty Yankees, this campaign, which is twenty thousand pounds a head; and at Bunker's Hill she gained a mile of ground, half of which she lost again by our taking post at Ploughed Hill. During the same time 60,000 children have been born in America. From these data his mathematical head will easily calculate the time and expense necessary to kill us all, and conquer our whole territory." It was a comical way of expressing the real truth that Britain neither would nor could give enough either of men, or money, or time to accomplish the task she had undertaken. To another he wrote: "We hear that more ships and troops are coming out. We know that you may do us a great deal of mischief, and are determined to bear it patiently as long as we can. But if you flatter yourselves with beating us into submission, you know neither the people nor the country." Other men wrote ardent words and indulged in the rhetorical extravagance of intense excitement in those days; Franklin sometimes cloaked the intensity of his feeling in humor, at other times spoke with a grave and self-contained moderation which was within rather than without the facts and the truth. Everything which he said was true with precision to the letter. But his careful statement and measured profession indicate rather than belie the earnestness of his feeling, the strength of his conviction, and the fixedness of his resolution.

Thus briefly must be dismissed the extensive and important toil of eighteen months, probably the busiest of Franklin's long and busy life. In September, 1776, he was elected envoy to France, and scant space is left for narrating the events of that interesting embassage.

CHAPTER IX

MINISTER TO FRANCE, I DEANE AND BEAUMARCHAIS: FOREIGN OFFICERS

It is difficult to pass a satisfactory judgment upon the diplomacy of the American Revolution. If one takes its history in detail, it presents a disagreeable picture of importunate knocking at the closed doors of foreign courts, of incessant and almost shameless begging for money and for any and every kind of assets that could be made useful in war, of public bickering and private slandering among the envoys and agents themselves. If, on the other hand, its achievements are considered, it appears crowned with the distinction of substantial, repeated, sometimes brilliant successes. A like contrast is found in its personnel. Between Franklin and Arthur Lee a distance opens like that between the poles, in which stand such men as Jay and Adams near the one extreme, Izard, William Lee, and Thomas Morris near the other, with Deane, Laurens, Carmichael, Jonathan Williams, and a few more in the middle ground. Yet what could have been reasonably expected? Franklin had had some dealings with English statesmen upon what may be called international business, and had justly regarded himself in the light of a quasi foreign minister. But with this exception not one man in all the colonies had had the slightest experience in diplomatic affairs, or any personal knowledge of the requirements of a diplomatic office, or any opportunity to gain any ideas on the subject beyond such as a well-educated man could glean from reading the scant historical literature which existed in those days. It was difficult also for Congress to know how to judge and discriminate concerning the material which it found at its disposal. There had been nothing in the careers of the prominent patriots to indicate whether or not any especial one among them had a natural aptitude for diplomacy. The selection must be made with little knowledge of the duties of the position, and with no knowledge of the responsive characteristics of the man. It was only natural that many of the appointments thus blindly made should turn out ill. After they were made, and the appointees had successfully crossed the ocean through the dangerous gauntlet of the English cruisers, there arose to be answered in Europe the embarrassing question: What these self-styled representatives represented. Was it a nation, or only a parcel of rebels? Here was an unusual and vexatious problem, concerning which most of the cautious royal governments were in no hurry to commit themselves; and their reticence added greatly to the perplexities of the fledgling diplomats. Nearly all cabinets felt it a great temptation to assist the colonies of the domineering mistress of the seas to change themselves from her dependencies into her naval rivals. But the attempt and not the deed might prove confounding; neither could a wise monarch assume with entire complacency the position of an aider and an abettor of a rebellion on the part of subjects whose grievances appeared chiefly an antipathy to taxation.

From the earliest moment France had been hopefully regarded by the colonists as probably their friend and possibly their ally. To France, therefore, the first American envoy was dispatched with promptitude, even before there was a declaration of independence or an assumption of nationality. Silas Deane was the man selected. He was the true Yankee jack-at-all-trades; he had been graduated at Yale College, then taught school, then practiced law, then engaged in trade, had been all the while advancing in prosperity and reputation, had been a member of the First and Second Congresses, had failed of reëlection to the Third, and was now without employment. Mr. Parton describes him as "of somewhat striking manners and good appearance, accustomed to live and entertain in liberal style, and fond of showy equipage and appointment." Perhaps his simple-minded fellow countrymen of the provinces fancied that such a man would make an imposing figure at an European court. He developed no other peculiar fitness for his position; he could not even speak French; and it proved an ill hour for himself in which he received this trying and difficult honor. By dint of native shrewdness, good luck, and falling among friends he made a fair beginning; but soon he floundered beyond his depth, committed some vexatious blunders, and in the course of conducting some important business at last found himself in a position where he had really done right but appeared to have done wrong, without being free to explain the truth. The result was that he was recalled upon a pretext which poorly concealed his disgrace, that he found even his reputation for financial honesty clouded, and that his prospects for the future were of the worst. He was not a man of sufficient mental calibre or moral strength to endure his unmerited sufferings with constancy. After prolonged disappointments in his attempts to set himself right in the opinion of the country, he became embittered, lost all judgment and patriotism, turned a renegade to the cause of America, which had wronged him indeed, but rather in ignorance than from malice, and died unreconciled, a broken and miserable exile. Such were the perils of the diplomatic service of the colonies in those days.

Deane arrived in France in June, 1776. He had with him a little ready money for his immediate personal expenses, and some letters of introduction from Franklin. It was intended to keep him supplied with money by sending cargoes of tobacco, rice, and indigo consigned to him, the proceeds of which would be at his disposal for the public service. He was instructed to seek an interview with de Vergennes, the French minister for foreign affairs, and to endeavor with all possible prudence and delicacy to find out what signs of promise the disposition of the French government really held for the insurgents. He was also to ask for equipment for 25,000 troops, ammunition, and 200 pieces of field artillery, all to be paid for—when Congress should be able! In France he was to keep his mission cloaked in secure secrecy, appearing simply as a merchant conducting his own affairs; and he was to write home common business letters under the very harmless and unsuggestive name of Timothy Jones, adding the real dispatch in invisible ink. But these commonplace precautions were rendered of no avail through the treachery of Dr. Edward Bancroft, an American resident abroad, who had the confidence of Congress, but who "accepted the post of a paid American spy, to prepare himself for the more lucrative office of a double spy for the British ministers."[38] Deane, going somewhat beyond his instructions to correspond with Bancroft, told him everything. Bancroft is supposed to have passed the information along to the British ministry, and thus enabled them to interpose serious hindrances in the way of the ingenious devices of the Frenchmen.

Before the arrival of Deane the interests of the colonies had been already taken in hand and substantially advanced in France by one of the most extraordinary characters in history. Caron de Beaumarchais was a man whom no race save the French could produce, and whose traits, career, and success lie hopelessly beyond the comprehension of the Anglo-Saxon. Bred a watchmaker, he had the skill, when a mere youth, to invent a clever escapement balance for regulating watches; had he been able to insert it into his own brain he might have held more securely his elusive good fortunes. From being an ingenious inventor he became an adventurer general, watchmaker to the king, the king's mistresses, and the king's daughters, the lover, or rather the beloved, of the wife of the controller of the king's kitchen, then himself the controller, thence a courtier, and a favorite of the royal princesses. Through a clever use of his opportunities he was able to do a great favor to a rich banker, who in return gave him chances to amass a fortune, and lent him money to buy a patent of nobility. This connection ended in litigation, which was near ruining him; but he discovered corruption on the part of the judge, and thereupon wrote his Memorials, of which the wit, keenness, and vivacity made him famous. He then rendered a private, personal, and important service to Louis XV., and soon afterwards another to the young Louis XVI. His capacity for secret usefulness gave him further occupation and carried him much to London. There he wrote the "Barber of Seville," and there also he fell in with Arthur Lee and became indoctrinated with grand notions of the resources and value of the colonies, and of the ruin which their separation must inflict upon England. Furthermore, as a Frenchman he naturally consorted with members of the opposition party who took views very favorable to America. With such corroboration of Lee's statements, Beaumarchais, never moderate in any sentiment, leaped to the conclusion that the colonies "must be invincible," and that England was "upon the brink of ruin, if her neighbors and rivals were but in a state to think seriously of it." At once the lively and ambitious fancy of the impetuous Frenchman spread an extravagant panorama of the possibilities thus opened to England's "natural enemy." He became frenzied in the American cause. In long and ardent letters he opened upon King Louis and his ministers a rattling fire of arguments sound and unsound, statements true and untrue, inducements reasonable and unreasonable, forecastings probable and improbable, policies wise and unwise, all designed to show that it was the bounden duty of France to adopt the colonial cause. The king, with no very able brain at any time, was very young and wholly inexperienced. He gazed bewildered at the brilliant pageantry of Beaumarchais's wonderful and audacious statecraft, and sensibly sought the advice of his ministers.

De Vergennes set out his views, in agreement with Beaumarchais. He declared that France now had her opportunity to reduce her dangerous rival to the place of a second-rate power. To this end it was desirable that the rebellion should endure at least one year. The sufferings of the colonists in that period would so embitter them that, even if they should finally be subdued, they would ever remain a restless, dangerous thorn in the side of England, a bond with a heavy penalty effectually binding her to keep the peace. To make sure that neither side should move for peace before this one valuable year of warfare should have been secured, it was the policy of France to maintain a pacific front towards Great Britain, thus relieving her from any fear that the colonies would obtain a French alliance, but clandestinely to furnish the insurgents with munitions of war and money sufficient to enable and encourage them to hold out.

The wise Turgot, in a state paper marked by great ability, opposed French intervention, and proved his case. Colonial independence was sure to come, a little sooner or later. Yet the reduction of the colonies would be the best possible assurance that England would not break the peace with France, since the colonists, being mutinous and discontented, would give her concern enough. On the other hand, should England fail, as he anticipated that she would, in this war, she would hardly emerge from it in condition to undertake another with France. As for the colonies themselves, should they win, the character of the Americans gave augury of their wishing a solid government and therefore cultivating peace. He uttered an admirable dissertation upon the relations between colonies and a parent country, and upon the value of colonies in its bearing upon the present question. In conclusion he gravely referred to the alarming deficit in the French exchequer as the strongest of all arguments against incurring the heavy charge of a war not absolutely unavoidable. "For a necessary war resources could be found; but war ought to be shunned as the greatest of misfortunes, since it would render impossible, perhaps forever, a reform absolutely necessary to the prosperity of the state and the solace of the people." The king, to whom these wise words were addressed, lived to receive terrible proof of their truth.

This good advice fell in well with the bent of Louis's mind. For, though no statesman, he had in this matter a sound instinct that an absolute monarch aiding rebels to erect a free republic was an anomaly, and a hazardous contradiction in the natural order of things. But de Vergennes was the coming man in France, and Turgot no longer had the influence or the popularity to which his ability entitled him. In May, 1776, on an ill day for the French monarchy, but a fair one for the American provinces, this able statesman was ousted from the cabinet. De Vergennes remained to wield entire control of the policy of the kingdom in this business, and his triumph was the great good fortune of the colonies. Yet his design was sufficiently cautious, and strictly limited to the advantage of his own country. France was not to be compromised, and an ingenious scheme was arranged.

The firm of Roderigue Hortalez & Co. made sudden appearance in Paris. Beaumarchais alone conducted its affairs, the most extraordinary merchant surely who ever engaged in extensive commerce! The capital was secretly furnished by the Spanish and French governments; about $400,000 the firm had to start with, and later the French government contributed $200,000 more. De Vergennes was explicit in his language to Beaumarchais: to Englishmen and Americans alike the affair must be an "individual speculation." With the capital given him Beaumarchais must "found a great commercial establishment," and "at his own risk and peril" sell to the colonies military supplies. These would be sold to him from the French arsenals; but he "must pay for them." From the colonies he must "ask return in their staple products." Except that his silent partners might be lenient in demanding repayment Beaumarchais really was to be a merchant, engaged in an exceptionally hazardous trade. If he regarded himself in any other light he was soon painfully undeceived; for de Vergennes was in earnest. But for the immediate present, upon the moment when he had arranged these preliminaries, doubtless fancying the government at his back, this most energetic of men plunged into his work with all the ardor of his excitable nature. He flew hither and thither; got arms and munitions from the government; bought and loaded ships, and was soon conducting an enormous business.

But it was by no means all smooth sailing for the vessels of Hortalez & Co.; for Deane arrived, not altogether opportunely, just as Beaumarchais was getting well under weigh. The two were soon brought together, and Deane was told all that was going on, save only the original connection of the French government, which it seems that he never knew. He in turn told all to Dr. Bancroft, and so unwittingly to the English government. Thereupon the watchful English cruisers effectually locked up the ships of Hortalez in the French harbors. Also Lord Stormont, the English ambassador, harassed the French government with ceaseless representations and complaints concerning these betrayed shipments of contraband cargoes. At the same time the news from America, coming chiefly through English channels, took on a very gloomy coloring, and lent a certain emphasis to these protests of the English minister. De Vergennes felt compelled to play out his neutral part even more in earnest than had been intended. He sent to the ports at which Hortalez & Co. had ships very stringent instructions to check unlawful trade, and the officials obeyed in good faith to the letter. Beaumarchais was seriously embarrassed at finding himself bearing in fact the mercantile character which he had supposed that he was only dramatically assuming. He had to load his cargoes and clear his ships as best he could, precisely like any ordinary dealer in contraband wares; there was no favoritism, no winking at his breaches of the law. The result was that it was a long while before he got any arms, ammunition, and clothing into an American port. Moreover, the ships from America which were to have brought him payment in the shape of tobacco and other American commodities failed to arrive; his royal copartners declined to make further advances; the ready money was gone, credit had been strained to the breaking point, and a real bankruptcy impended over the sham firm. Thus in the autumn and early winter of 1776 prospects in France wore no cheerful aspect for the colonies. It was at this juncture that Franklin arrived, and he came like a reviving breeze from the sea.

Long and anxiously did Congress wait to get news from France; not many trustworthy ships were sent on so perilous a voyage, and of those that ventured it only a few got across an ocean "porcupined" with English warships. At last in September, 1776, Franklin received from Dr. Dubourg of Paris, a gentleman with whom his friendship dated back to his French trip in 1767, a long and cheering letter full of gratifying intelligence concerning the disposition of the court, and throwing out a number of such suggestions that the mere reading them was a stimulus to action. Congress was not backward to respond; it resolved at once to send a formal embassage. Franklin was chosen unanimously by the first ballot. "I am old and good for nothing," he whispered to Dr. Rush, "but, as the storekeepers say of their remnants of cloth, 'I am but a fag end and you may have me for what you please.'"[39] Thomas Jefferson and Deane were elected as colleagues; but Jefferson declined the service and Arthur Lee was put in his stead. The Reprisal, sloop of war, of sixteen guns, took Dr. Franklin and his grandson on board for the dangerous voyage. It was a very different risk from that which Messrs. Slidell and Mason took nearly a century later. They embarked on a British mail steamship, and were subject, as was proved, only to the ordinary perils of navigation. But had Franklin been caught in this little rebel craft, which had actually been captured from English owners and condemned as prize by rebel tribunals, and which now added the aggravating circumstance that she carried an armament sufficient to destroy a merchantman but not to encounter a frigate, he would have had before him at best a long imprisonment, at worst a trial for high treason and a halter. Horace Walpole gave the news that "Dr. Franklin, at the age of seventy-two or seventy-four, and at the risk of his head, had bravely embarked on board an American frigate." Several times he must have contemplated these pleasing prospects, for several times the small sloop was chased by English cruisers; but she was a swift sailer and escaped them all. Just before making port she captured two English brigs and carried them in as prizes.

The reference to Slidell and Mason, by the way, calls to mind the humorous but accurate manner in which Franklin described the difference between revolution and rebellion. Soon after landing from this hazardous voyage he wrote merrily to a lady friend: "You are too early, hussy, as well as too saucy, in calling me a rebel. You should wait for the event, which will determine whether it is a rebellion or only a revolution. Here the ladies are more civil; they call us les insurgens, a character which usually pleases them."

The voyage, though quick, was very rough, and Franklin, confined in a small cabin and "poorly nourished," since much of the meat was too tough for his old teeth, had a hard time of it; so that upon coming on shore he found himself "much fatigued and weakened," indeed, "almost demolished." He therefore rested several days at Nantes before going to Paris, where he arrived just before the close of the year.

The excitement which his arrival in the French capital created was unmistakable evidence of the estimate set by Europe upon his abilities. Some persons in England endeavored to give to his voyage the color of a desertion from a cause of which he despaired. "The arch——, Dr. Franklin, has lately eloped under a cloak of plenipotentiary to Versailles," wrote Sir Grey Cooper. But Edmund Burke refused to believe that the man whom he had seen examined before the privy council was "going to conclude a long life, which has brightened every hour it has continued, with so foul and dishonorable a flight." Lord Rockingham said that the presence of Franklin in Paris much more than offset the victory of the English on Long Island, and their capture of New York. Lord Stormont, it is said, threatened to leave sans prendre congé, if the "chief of the American rebels" were allowed to come to Paris. The adroit de Vergennes replied that the government had already dispatched a courier to direct Franklin to remain at Nantes; but since they knew neither the time of his departure nor his route, the message might not reach him. Should he thus innocently arrive in Paris it would be scandalous, inhospitable, and contrary to the laws of nations to send him away.[40]

But while the English were angry, the French indulged in a furore of welcome. They made feasts and hailed the American as the friend of human kind, as the "ideal of a patriarchal republic and of idyllic simplicity," as a sage of antiquity; and the exuberant classicism of the nation exhausted itself in glorifying him by comparisons with those great names of Greece and Rome which have become symbols for all private and public virtues. They admired him because he did not wear a wig; they lauded his spectacles; they were overcome with enthusiasm as they contemplated his great cap of martin fur, his scrupulously white linen, and the quaint simplicity of his brown Quaker raiment of colonial make. They noted with amazement that his "only defense" was a "walking-stick in his hand." The print-shops were soon full of countless representations of his noble face and venerable figure, set off by all these pleasing adjuncts. The people thronged the streets to see him pass, and respectfully made way for him. He seemed, as John Adams said later, to enjoy a reputation "more universal than that of Leibnitz or Newton, Frederick or Voltaire."

So soon as all this uproar gave him time to look about him, he established himself at Passy, in a part of the Hôtel de Valentinois, which was kindly placed at his disposal by its owner, M. Ray de Chaumont. In this at that time retired suburb he hoped to be able to keep the inevitable but useless interruptions within endurable limits. Not improbably also he was further influenced, in accepting M. Chaumont's hospitality, by a motive of diplomatic prudence. His shrewdness and experience must soon have shown him that his presence in Paris, if not precisely distasteful to the French government, must at least in some degree compromise it, and might by any indiscretion on his part easily be made to annoy and vex the ministers. It therefore behooved him to make himself as little as possible conspicuous in any official or public way. A rebuke, a cold reception, might do serious harm; nor was it politic to bring perplexities to those whose friendship he sought. He could not avoid, nor had he any reason to do so, the social éclat with which he was greeted; but he must shun the ostentation of any relationship with men in office. This would be more easily accomplished by living in a quarter somewhat remote and suburban. His retirement, therefore, while little curtailing his intercourse with private society, evinced his good tact, and doubtless helped his good standing with the ministers. The police record reports that, if he saw them at all, it was secretly and under cover of night. He lived in comfortable style, but not showily, keeping a moderate retinue of servants for appearance as much as for use, and a carriage, which was indispensable to him. John Adams charged him with undue luxury and extravagance, but the accusation was ridiculous.

Very exacting did the business of the American envoys soon become. On December 23, 1776, they wrote to acquaint the Count de Vergennes that they were "appointed and fully empowered by the Congress of the United States of America to propose and negotiate a treaty of amity and commerce between France and the United States;" and they requested an audience for the purpose of presenting their credentials to his excellency. Five days later the audience was given them. They explained the desire of the American colonies to enter into a treaty of alliance and of commerce. They said that the colonists were anxious to get their ships, now lying at the home wharves laden with tobacco and other products, out of the American harbors, and to give them a chance to run for France. But the English vessels hovered thick up and down the coasts, and the Americans, though able to take care of frigates, could not encounter ships of the line. Would not France lend eight ships of the line, equipped and manned, to let loose all this blockaded commerce which was ready to seek her ports and to fill the coffers of her merchants? Under all the circumstances this was certainly asking too much; and in due time the envoys were courteously told so, but were also offered a strictly secret loan of $400,000, to be repaid after the war, without interest.

It appears that Franklin had substantially no concern in the quasi commercial transactions pending at the time of his arrival between Deane and Beaumarchais. Deane himself did not know and could not disclose the details of the relationship between Beaumarchais and the government, which indeed were not explored and made public until more than half a century had elapsed after their occurrence. Therefore Franklin saw nothing more than mercantile dealings in various stages of forwardness, whose extensive intricacies it did not seem worth while for him to unravel at a cost of much time and labor, which could be better expended in other occupations.[41] Deane held all the threads, and it seemed natural and proper to leave this business as his department. So Franklin never had more than a general knowledge concerning this imbroglio.

This leaving all to Deane might have been well enough had not Deane had an implacable enemy in Arthur Lee, who, for that matter, resembled the devil in at least one particular, inasmuch as he was the foe of all mankind. Beaumarchais early in the proceedings had summarily dropped Lee from his confidence and instated Deane in the vacancy. This was sufficient to set Lee at once at traducing, an art in which long experience had cultivated natural aptitude. He saw great sums of money being used, and he was not told whence they came. But he guessed, and upon his guess he built up a theory of financial knavery. Deane had repeatedly assured Beaumarchais that he should receive the cargoes of American produce with promptitude,[42] and he did his best to make these promises good, writing urgent letters to Congress to hasten forward the colonial merchandise. But Arthur Lee mischievously and maliciously blocked these perfectly straightforward and absolutely necessary arrangements. For he had conceived the notion that Beaumarchais was an agent of the French court, that the supplies were free gifts from the French government, and that any payments for them to Hortalez & Co. would only go to fill the rascal purses of Deane and Beaumarchais, confederates in a scheme for swindling. He had no particle of evidence to sustain this notion, which was simply the subtle conception of his own bad mind; but he was not the less positive and persistent in asserting it in his letters to members of Congress. Such accounts sadly puzzled that body; and it may be imagined to what a further hopeless degree of bewilderment this gathering of American lawyers and tradesmen, planters and farmers, must have been reduced by the extraordinary letters of the wild and fanciful Beaumarchais. The natural consequence was that the easier course was pursued, and no merchandise was sent to Hortalez. If affairs had not soon taken a new turn in France this error might have had disastrous consequences for the colonies. In fact, it only ruined poor Deane.

After this unfortunate man had been recalled, and while he was in great affliction at home because he could not get his reputation cleared from these Lee slanders, being utterly unable in America to produce even such accounts and evidence as might have been had in France, Franklin more than once volunteered to express kindly and emphatically his entire belief in Deane's integrity. So late as October, 1779, though admitting his lack of knowledge concerning an affair in which he had "never meddled," he still thought Deane "innocent." Finally in 1782, when Deane had become thoroughly demoralized by his hard fate, Franklin spoke of his fall not without a note of sympathy: "He resides at Ghent, is distressed both in mind and circumstances, raves and writes abundance, and I imagine it will end in his going over to join his friend Arnold in England. I had an exceedingly good opinion of him when he acted with me, and I believe he was then sincere and hearty in our cause. But he is changed, and his character ruined in his own country and in this, so that I see no other but England to which he can now retire. He says we owe him about £12,000 sterling."[43] But of this Franklin knew nothing, and proposed getting experts to examine the accounts. He did know very well, however, what it was to be accused by Arthur Lee, and would condemn no man upon that basis!

Yet the matter annoyed him greatly. On June 12, 1781, he wrote acknowledging that he was absolutely in the dark about the whole business:—