The news of Bunker Hill changed that. Americans had seized high ground north of Boston, and the British army had attacked. A battle erupted, leaving more than 1,000 British and 400 Americans dead and wounded. Cannon balls from British warships set Charlestown afire, and some 300 houses were destroyed.
Despite Franklin’s support for the American cause, some suspected him to be a British spy - due mainly to his son’s refusal to join the revolution, as well as the years he had spent in England and his friendship with powerful men in parliament. William Bradford, nephew of Franklin’s old newspaper competitor, spread this slander. Richard Henry Lee of Virginia, a leading member of the Continental Congress, announced he was launching an investigation to determine whether Franklin was a traitor.
More dismaying was the decision in Congress to accept Dickinson’s advice and submit another “humble petition” to the king. Dickinson, with help from Thomas Jefferson, wrote the Olive Branch Petition, and it was sent to London despite the news from Bunker Hill.
Franklin, convinced independence was the only solution, wrote a declaration of independence and articles of confederation, creating a new nation. But when he showed it to delegates, they were, in Jefferson’s words, “revolted at it.” Congress was convinced, in this summer of 1775, that war could be avoided. Politically isolated, Franklin stayed uncharacteristically silent in the Continental Congress.
Meanwhile, he worried about William his grandson. The boy was spending the summer with his father and stepmother in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. Governor Franklin found no difficulty convincing his wife Elizabeth to welcome Temple as a son. The motherless boy had responded with affection and was enjoying the lively, well-to-do society that surrounded the governor in his handsome house.
Like William, most people were loyal to the king. Worried about the effect they might have on Temple, Franklin sent the young man letters, urging him to continue his studies and sending him news from Philadelphia. He told him about Sally’s three children and how Will, the second one, “has got a little gun, marches with it and whistles at the same time by way of fife.” Even toddlers were aware war was brewing.
In other letters, Franklin discussed Temple’s future with William, agreeing to enroll the young man in the college at Philadelphia. There had been some disagreement about the choice of school, which turned into a heated tug-of-war over control of Temple. William had disapproved of the London grammar school Franklin had chosen for him. Now, he wanted Temple to study law at his alma mater, the Inns of Court in London. In the end, money was the deciding factor. William would have to submit to his father’s decision until he could afford to send Temple to England himself. William asked whether he should bring Temple back to Philadelphia or if Franklin would prefer to come to Perth Amboy for him.
With congressmen such as John Adams talking about arresting Loyalists, the sight of William in Philadelphia only would lessen Franklin’s political influence in Congress. He told William he preferred to come to Perth Amboy.
On this visit, Franklin attempted one last time to persuade William to join the Americans. But William did not think the Americans could win, nor did he believe they could govern if they did. William disliked America and Americans as much as he liked England and her people. Because of his illegitimate birth, he never had been accepted in America, while in London (where this was unknown), he had been won a high government post. He did not share his father’s faith in America because he had not found opportunity in America.
William resented the part his father had played in the collapse of his dream of the Ohio colony. A few weeks later, Franklin returned to Philadelphia with Temple. William wrote him, pointing out the English partners in the Ohio Company said they had received “the strongest assurances that as soon as the present great dispute is settled our grant shall be perfected.” William hinted that Benjamin ought to work for a compromise and stop campaigning for independence.
This dispute with his son made Franklin wish war could be avoided. He traveled to Cambridge, Massachusetts, with two other members of Congress, to confer with George Washington, who had taken command of the American army in Boston. From there, he wrote to his son-in-law Richard Bache, admitting he wished “most earnestly for peace, this war being a truly unnatural and mischievous one.”
William made a move that almost altered the course of the revolution. Summoning the New Jersey Assembly, he spoke about “the present unhappy situation of publick affairs” and urged the Assembly to accept the invitation of the British government and petition the king to settle the dispute. Lord North, the British first minister, announced in parliament the British were ready to settle all disputes as long as each colony petitioned the king separately. In fact, the British were hoping to divide and conquer America by breaking the united front in the Continental Congress.
William informed the New Jersey Assemblymen he was aware “sentiments of independency are . . . openly avowed.” He called independence a “horrid measure” and asked the Assembly to pass a resolution forbidding New Jersey delegates in the Continental Congress from voting for it. The Assembly agreed to Franklin’s requests.
In Philadelphia, the Continental Congress reacted with alarm. If New Jersey’s petition reached the king, and he responded with money and other favors, more colonies might be tempted to repeat the performance, and American unity would become a “rope of sand.” Congress resolved “that in the present situation of affairs, it will be very dangerous to the liberties and welfare of America, if any colony should separately petition the king or either house of parliament.” They appointed a committee of three and ordered them to Burlington, where the New Jersey Assembly was meeting, to inform members of this resolution.
After listening to the three congressmen, the Assembly decided to delay their petition until they saw how the king responded to the Olive Branch Petition.
While his son was trying to undermine the revolution, Franklin worked harder to ensure its success. Each morning, he arose at 6:00 and met the Committee of Safety for Pennsylvania, where he bought powder and conferred on the manufacture of guns and cannon. He offered advice on how to block the Delaware River with underwater barriers made of logs and iron, so British warships could not sail close enough to bombard Philadelphia.
At 9:00 a.m., Franklin trudged to Congress, which was meeting in the Pennsylvania State House. There he served on ten committees, in addition to his duties as postmaster general. He worried about conciliating the Indians of the “Middle Department” along Pennsylvania’s and Virginia’s borders, advised Congress on ways to protect the trade of the colonies, and conferred with generals and engineers on equipping the army.
The most important committee on which Franklin served began its work during the same month in 1775 that saw William Franklin’s attempt to thwart the revolution. The elder Franklin and four congressmen were appointed to a secret committee with “the sole purpose of corresponding with our friends in Great Britain, Ireland, and other parts of the world.”
A few days later, the French-born librarian of the Philadelphia Library introduced Franklin to an “Antwerp merchant” who had come to America “out of curiosity.” The man was a spy, sent by the French government to see how the revolution was progressing. Franklin and fellow committee members met with him several times during December, maintaining the strictest secrecy. They chose a different building for each meeting, and each member traveled alone, by a different route. The French secret agent assured them “France wished them well,” but he hesitated to say France was ready to support the Americans. “It was slippery business in the face of the English,” he said. He agreed to help the Americans hire French military engineers and buy muskets and ammunition in France.
On January 2, 1776, Congress passed a resolution calling on authorities in various colonies to restrain the “wicked practices” of those “unworthy Americans” who persisted in supporting the royal government. Within three days, the commander of the American army in New Jersey arrested Governor Frankli
n after intercepting letters William had sent to the British government, identifying leaders of the revolution in New Jersey, and discussing the rebellion in detail. Congress, embarrassed he was Benjamin Franklin’s son, allowed William to remain in his house; and New Jersey continued to pay his salary as governor.
In a letter, William tried to earn Temple’s sympathy by describing the way the army had surrounded his house with bayonet-wielding soldiers at 2:00 a.m. Elizabeth Franklin had been so frightened, the governor was certain “another alarm of the like nature will put an end to her life.” William reminded Temple how affectionately Mrs. Franklin had accepted him as her stepson. “Let what will happen, I hope you will never be wanting in a grateful sense of her kindness to you,” he said.
His father’s letter disturbed Temple, and he answered immediately, full of apologies and sympathy. But Benjamin Franklin did not communicate with his son. He had done everything in his power to convince him to change sides before it was too late. Now William would have to pay the consequences.
Early in 1776, more Americans began to realize Franklin was right: Independence was America’s only hope. The king had declared the colonies in revolt, forbade all nations to trade with them, and authorized the seizure of American ships on the high seas.
Meanwhile, on January 10, 1776, Franklin’s friend, Thomas Paine, published a forty-seven-page pamphlet called Common Sense. It was an attack on two ideas that prevented most Americans from voting for independence - loyalty to the king and the British Constitution. The pamphlet was a sensation; in less than three months, 120,000 copies were sold. Many thought Franklin had written it, and indeed, Paine may have gotten ideas from Franklin, who had written letters of introduction for him when he came to America from England in 1774. Paine gave Franklin the first pamphlet.
On March 3, Franklin’s committee sent a secret agent – Silas Deane, a Connecticut merchant - to France. Franklin introduced him to friends in France and counseled Deane on how to deal with French foreign Minister Charles Gravier, Count de Vergennes.
A few weeks later, Congress asked Franklin to travel to Canada. An American army was attempting to bring that colony into the revolution, but the British had counterattacked and seemed on the verge of driving the Americans out. Franklin traveled up Lake George and Lake Champlain in open boats, through icy water. He bought a fur hat to keep his balding head warm. Conditions became so grim that Franklin thought at one point he was dying and wrote letters of farewell to friends.
In Canada, he found the army in disarray because it had no money. He struggled back down the lakes to New York. On his return, his legs swelled and boils broke out over his body. He might have died, except for help from Father John Carroll, an American priest who had joined the American mission to persuade the Catholic French Canadians to side with the Americans. But the Catholic Bishop of Quebec preferred the British, and Father Carroll, seeing he was wasting his time and realizing the seriousness of Franklin’s condition, offered to make the journey with him. From New York, Franklin wrote friends, “I think I could hardly have got along so far, but for Mister Carroll’s friendly assistance and tender care of me.”
In Philadelphia, Franklin discovered his son remained opposed to the revolution. On May 15, 1776, Congress passed a resolution abolishing all “oaths and affirmations” to the crown of Great Britain and called on Americans to suppress royal authority in the colonies. Ignoring this warning, Governor Franklin issued a call for the New Jersey Assembly to meet in Perth Amboy on June l0.
Unfortunately for William, the Third Provincial Congress of New Jersey - the local revolutionary government - was in session and decided William’s call was “in direct contempt and violation of the resolve of the Continental Congress.” Members declared William “an enemy of the liberties of this country” and ordered him arrested, and his salary as royal governor “from henceforth to cease.” They urged arresting officers to conduct themselves “with all the delicacy and tenderness which the nature of the business could possibly admit.” If Governor Franklin agreed to sign a parole guaranteeing good conduct, he would be permitted to live on his farm at Rancocas Creek below Burlington.
But William refused to cooperate. He defied soldiers who arrested him and told the Provincial Congress they could “do as you please and make the best of it.” The committeemen informed the Continental Congress William was “a virulent enemy to this country.” On Monday, June 24, the Continental Congress resolved that “William Franklin be sent under guard to Governor Trumbull of [Connecticut].”
For Benjamin Franklin, his son’s arrest was the deepest disgrace. He coped with the indignity by feigning ignorance, claiming illness “has kept me from Congress and company . . . so that I know little of what has passed there.” He began the process of vanquishing his son from his thoughts, conversations, and his memoirs. William’s place in his will was given to his sister and her family. Franklin’s was not the first or the last family torn apart by the revolution. “All families are liable to have degenerate members. Even Adam’s had its Cain. Among the twelve Apostles, there was at least one traitor,” summed up New Jersey delegate William Livingston, whose nephew was similarly arrested.
William, still fighting for Temple’s allegiance, wrote a letter to his son, describing his ordeal. He called the New Jersey committeemen “low mightinesses” and described how they ordered him to travel to Connecticut, despite his claim he was too sick to travel. “Hypocrites always suspect hypocrisy in others,” the governor said. Then he urged Temple “to be dutiful and attentive to your grandfather” and “love Mrs. Franklin for she loves you, and will do all she can for you if I should never return more.”
Throughout the last two weeks in June, Benjamin used his weakened condition, a result of his trip to Canada, as an excuse to avoid attending Congress, doing little in the fight to pass a declaration of independence. As the most famous man in Congress and a writer with a worldwide reputation, Franklin seemed to be the logical candidate to write the declaration. But the embarrassment of his Tory son cast a shadow over any role as a revolutionary spokesman. Committee members gave the job to thirty-three-year-old Thomas Jefferson, a delegate without political liabilities.
Franklin made only minor changes in Jefferson’s document. Where Jefferson had written “We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable,” Franklin crossed out “sacred and undeniable” and substituted “self-evident.”
Franklin came to Congress to vote in favor of independence on July 2. On the following day, he sat next to Jefferson as Congress examined the declaration and deleted several sections. This annoyed Jefferson. When the shortened version had been approved, Franklin tried to lift Jefferson’s spirits. “I have made it a rule,” he said, “whenever in my power to avoid becoming the draftsman of papers to be reviewed by a public body.” To explain why, Franklin told Jefferson a story from his printer days. One friend, an apprentice hatter, decided to open a shop. “His first concern was to have a handsome signboard with a proper inscription. He composed it in these words: John Thompson, hatter, makes and sells hats for ready money, with a figure of a hat subjoined. But he thought he would submit it to his friends for their amendments.”
The first man thought the word “hatter” was superfluous because it was followed by the words “makes hats.” Thompson agreed and eliminated it. The next friend observed the word “makes” might as well be omitted, because the customers would not care who made the hats, as long as they were good. Thompson agreed. A third friend suggested eliminating “for ready money” because no local merchants sold on credit. Again Thompson conceded the point. Now his sign read: “John Thompson sells hats.”
“Sells hats,” said his next friend, “why nobody will expect you to give them away. What then is the use of that word?” Again Thompson conceded. Moments later, the word “hats” went into oblivion when another friend pointed out one was painted on the board. So he was left with a sign that said “John Thompson” beneath the painted hat.
It was like Franklin to tell a joke at the moment he was voting for a document that would make him a traitor, liable to be hanged, drawn, and quartered under English law. Contrary to the myth, no one signed the Declaration on July 4. Not until August 2nd was a final copy engrossed on parchment and signed by members of Congress. John Hancock, after placing his signature at the head of the list of signers, as befitted the president of Congress, said, “We must be unanimous; there must be no pulling different ways; we must all hang together.”
“Yes,” Franklin replied, “we must indeed all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.”
When Franklin had written his own declaration of independence, in the summer of 1775, he had attached to it Articles of Confederation. Now he threw his energy into persuading Congress to form a union as quickly as possible. But he could not get them to agree. The smaller states - with fewer men and less money - demanded an equal vote with the large states. Franklin warned that having “an equal vote without bearing equal burdens” meant the confederation would “never last long.”
Meanwhile, the British were amassing a huge army on Staten Island, preparing to attack Washington and his amateur soldiers, entrenched on Long Island and in New York. On August 27, the British defeated the Americans on Long Island. Only a miraculous combination of good luck, British overconfidence and foggy weather enabled Washington to escape by night with most of his army to Manhattan Island.
Lord Richard Howe, the British admiral who had tried to negotiate with Franklin in London, appeared in New York harbor as commander of the British navy with a commission from the king to negotiate peace. Franklin and two other congressmen met with Lord Howe on Staten Island, but the conference ended in failure, because Lord Howe’s only power was to issue pardons, if and when Americans made their “submission” to the king. Franklin told him Americans did not feel they had done anything that needed pardoning. He also told him independence was an unchangeable fact; Britain must accept that and negotiate with Americans accordingly.
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