Franklin replied, “I am old, cannot have long to live, have much to do and no time for Altercation.” After suffering months of Lee’s outbursts, however, Franklin’s patience was finally exhausted, and he decided it was time to tell Lee honestly what he thought of him:
If I have often receiv’d and borne your Magisterial Snubbings and Rebukes without Reply, ascribe it to the right Causes, my Concern for the Honour and Success of our Mission, which would be hurt by our Quarrelling, my Love of Peace, my Respect for your good Qualities, and my Pity of your Sick Mind, which is forever Tormenting itself, with its Jealousies, Suspicions and Fancies that others mean you ill, wrong you, or fail in Respect for you. If you do not cure your self of this Temper it will end in Insanity, of which it is the Symptomatick Foreruner, as I have seen in several Instances.
Franklin was disgusted by Lee’s attacks on Deane and wanted to set the record straight, even though he realized Lee was targeting him as well. He wrote to the president of Congress, Henry Laurens, a member of the Lee-Adams Junto, in defense of Deane. Franklin attributed Deane’s recall to “some misrepresentations from an enemy or two at Paris and at Nantes.” Franklin could not have been clearer that he was referring to the Lee brothers. Though Franklin was confident that Deane would vindicate himself, as a “witness of his public conduct,” Franklin judged him “a faithful, active, and able Minister, who, to my knowledge, has done, in various ways, great and important services to his country.”
As the day of Deane’s departure approached, Vergennes sent Deane a note for the president of Congress “to give my testimony to the zeal, activity, and intelligence with which [Deane] has merited the esteem of the King.” Vergennes wished Deane well and prayed “that you may find in your own country the same sentiments which you inspired in France.” As an expression of the king’s regard for Deane, Vergennes enclosed a gold snuffbox set with diamonds and painted with Louis XVI’s portrait. The foreign minister added, “You will not, I presume, Sir, refuse to carry to your country the image of its most zealous friend.”
Without saying goodbye to Lee, Deane left Paris secretly on April 1. The French feared that the fleet would be attacked by British ships if they knew when it was leaving and where it was headed. As Deane was leaving Paris he did not know that John Adams had just arrived on the frigate Boston at Bordeaux. Adams was accompanied by Deane’s thirteen-year-old son, Jesse, whom he was bringing to see his father for the first time in two years. Deane missed them entirely.
Deane traveled by coach, under an assumed name, first to Aix and then through Marseilles to the tiny port of La Seine on the Bay of Toulon, where he met Gérard. On the evening of April 13, when the wind blew favorable, a small boat picked him up to take him a mile out to the Languedoc. This ninety-gun vessel was possibly the greatest warship of its time. Under the command of Vice-Admiral d’Estaing, the Languedoc would be the flagship of a fleet that included 4,000 troops on twelve ships of the line with at least seventy-four guns each and four swift frigates. The British had no ships as big or as powerful as these.
The evening breeze felt warm, and in the moonlight Deane could make out a forest of masts with their sails billowing open. Soon they were under way, and Deane felt a strange sense of calm. He knew they might be stopped by the British blockade; he knew that he faced a hostile inquisition in Philadelphia. Still, he found comfort knowing he was coming home at last with an armada “which will convince America and the World of the Sincere Friendship of France.” He was “happy at the great prospect” before him. Under a sky flecked with stars he headed swiftly into darkness.
THIRTY-THRE
TO OPPOSE A TORRENT IS MADNESS
Philadelphia, July-December 1778
In later years Deane could look back in amazement on the cascade of events that tumbled after the first shipment of French arms arrived in New Hampshire: the capture of Burgoyne at Saratoga, the treaties of commerce and alliance with France, and the arrival of the French fleet. These events were followed in July with France’s declaration of war against Britain. Within the year, Spain had entered the war as well. Later Britain declared war on the Netherlands for supporting the French and the Americans. Soon Britain would be fighting in the West Indies, India, Africa, and the Mediterranean. In the space of two years, the American War of Independence became a world war with Britain fighting on many fronts, and Britain’s victory was no longer assured.
On July 2, after a year in exile, Congress rode back into Philadelphia with great fanfare. The British forces occupying the city had heard that Admiral d’Estaing was approaching with a French fleet, and they marched from Philadelphia to New York City to avoid being trapped by the French. The redcoats left the city in ruins. Hundreds of shops and homes, including Franklin’s, had been looted or destroyed by the British. Remnants of buildings were strewn in the streets. Market stalls were emptied, and what few goods were available were too expensive for the few inhabitants who had remained behind—the poor, sick, wounded, and elderly. Congress had to postpone returning to Independence Hall for several weeks until the building was thoroughly scrubbed. The British had used the building as a military hospital and left behind an insalubrious pile of rotting corpses to greet the returning delegates. The war had proved far costlier than Congress had ever imagined in the first intoxicating breath of independence.
A week later a fleet of magnificent ships flying the flag of France sailed into Delaware Bay below Philadelphia. From his cabin Deane wrote to the president of Congress, Henry Laurens, that the Languedoc had landed under the command of Admiral Comte d’Estaing and carried His Excellency, the French minister plenipotentiary, Conrad-Alexandre Gérard. Deane tactfully advised Congress on the appropriate protocol for receiving a foreign diplomat, including the proper form of salute, and asked Congress to advance the French minister the equivalent of 20,000 livres (about $154,000 today) for his expenses. That Sunday, members of Congress, attired in their best suits and sweating profusely under a blazing sun, rode down the river on a barge rowed by a dozen soldiers in scarlet uniforms trimmed with silver. When the assembled delegates caught sight of the ships’ towering masts shimmering in the heat like a mirage, they gasped. Americans had never seen ships this large with so many powerful guns. Four thousand French troops crowded the decks of the sixteen vessels—a number equal to roughly half of the entire Continental Army at that time.
To Gérard, who was accustomed to the grandeur of Versailles, the homely scene of the seat of government floating on a barge might have seemed somewhat comical. These Americans were as unpretentious as Franklin’s fur cap. They looked like children pretending to be grown up. But he found their sincerity and humility deeply affecting. Gérard was received with a fifteen-gun salute at a ceremony chaired by Laurens, whose South Carolina accent must have sounded incomprehensible to French ears. Despite the heat, the crowd roared enthusiastically, and after the ceremony they proceeded into Philadelphia, where the delegates toasted the French monarch over drinks at the City Tavern, on Second Street.
Gérard’s arrival could not have been better timed to renew a sense of dignity and hope to the people of Philadelphia after suffering so much hardship. “Who would have thought,” gushed a correspondent from one local paper, that the American colonies “claimed by every pettyfoging lawyer in the house of Commons, and every cobbler in the beer houses of London, as part of their property,” would after three years of war “receive an Ambassador from the most powerful monarchy in Europe.”
Over dinner that night Deane sat next to his old friend General Benedict Arnold, the hero of Saratoga, who was now posted to Philadelphia as military governor. Arnold had not seen Deane since they had conspired to capture Fort Ticonderoga three years earlier. Their public service had complemented each other: Deane had provided financing for the assault on Ticonderoga and arms for the battle at Saratoga, the two victories that had secured Arnold’s military reputation. Arnold invited Deane and Minister Gérard to stay with him until they found suitable accommodations
, and they accepted gratefully. Some people already suspected that Arnold was secretly sympathetic to the British Crown, but that seemed patently absurd to Deane. Only later would Deane’s friendship with Arnold prove inconvenient.
Once settled into Arnold’s comfortable home, Deane was eager to address Congress and clear his name. Congress, however, was not interested in hearing from him. They did not expect an explanation or a defense of his conduct. It was far from clear, even to Congress, why they had recalled Deane. There were so many insinuations against Deane, but no specific allegations or solid evidence of any kind. A vague cloud of doubt had enshrouded Deane, and neither he nor Congress could see a way out of it.
Meanwhile, delegates in Congress were openly questioning Arnold’s loyalty. The attack was led by Joseph Reed, an influential delegate who became President of Pennsylvania. Reed was single-minded in his pursuit of suspected Loyalists, and not coincidentally, he was also an outspoken opponent of Deane and Robert Morris. Reed was especially outraged that Arnold was courting the daughter of a prominent Loyalist. (She later became his wife.) Moreover, Arnold as the military governor of Pennsylvania represented a potential challenge to the authority of the state government and to Reed himself. Reed arranged to publish scurrilous assaults on Arnold’s character in the Pennsylvania Packet. Eventually, Reed pressured Congress to order that Arnold be subject to court-martial on a range of dubious criminal charges. Feeling falsely accused and unjustifiably maligned, Arnold in May 1779 sold himself to the British as a secret agent. Deane’s association with Arnold further tainted his own reputation.
ONE OF THE REASONS often mentioned for Deane’s recall was that he had issued military commissions without authority. American military officers resented the generous terms Deane had offered to some French officers. Of course, Deane commissioned these officers at the request of Vergennes, on whom Deane depended for the continuation of arms. Congress did not appreciate that these commissions helped to cement the relationship with France.
Samuel Adams objected that Deane had no authority to issue any commissions “and yet he sent us over Majors, Colonels, Brigadiers & Majors General in Abundance & more than we knew what to do with, of his own creating, till at length mr. Du Coudray arrivd.” Major General du Coudray was the last straw. Deane was hardly surprised to hear that du Coudray was as inept as he was demanding; after all, Deane had tried to prevent du Coudray from ever leaving France.
Rather than acknowledge the many talented officers Deane had recruited—including some of Washington’s most valued generals, Lafayette, de Kalb, and Steuben—the Lee-Adams Junto exploited the appointment of du Coudray as a pretext for recalling Deane. And if Congress were genuinely opposed to these commissions, why didn’t Congress object to the dozens of commissions that were subsequently issued by Franklin after he arrived in France?
In truth, Deane’s recall was a naked power grab by the Lee-Adams Junto, which for the moment held the balance of power in a deeply polarized Congress. The junto included most of the southern and New England delegates, who viewed men like Deane, Franklin, and Morris as constituting a dangerous alliance of commercial and financial interests based in New York and Philadelphia. Planters, like the Lees and their southern brethren, had long felt that they were exploited by the mercantile class that controlled foreign trade out of cities like Philadelphia. The economic difficulties brought on by the Revolution and the collapse of the Continental currency had sparked a backlash against financiers. The Lees still wanted revenge against Franklin and his cronies for upending their development plans in the Ohio River valley. The Lees and the Ad amses shared a deep suspicion of France, and they wanted control of foreign policy.
The Lee-Adams Junto saw no need for a congressional inquiry into Deane’s conduct. No matter what Deane said in his own defense, his critics had already judged him. And they condemned Deane for a bad character rather than for any specific crimes. Richard Henry Lee dispensed with even the pretense of civility: “The wickedness of Deane and his party exceeds all belief, and must in the end fail them notwithstanding the Art with which they clothe themselves.”
The real goal of the Lee-Adams Junto was to recall both Deane and Franklin and to strip Morris of his power in Congress; Deane was merely the first step. Richard Henry Lee thought Franklin was “immoral” and assured his brother that “The Doctor is old and must soon be called to account for his misdeeds.” Similarly, Ralph Izard wrote Congress that Franklin’s
abilities are great and his reputation high; removed as he is to so considerable a distance from the observation of his constituents, if he is not guided by principles of virtue and honor, those abilities and that reputation may produce the most mischievous effects. In my conscience I declare to you, that I believe him under no such internal restraints, and God knows that I speak the real unprejudiced sentiments of my heart.
But the attacks on Franklin’s integrity were a tactical mistake. The Lees and their party were overreaching; the delegates were not about to condemn their most distinguished colleague. Eventually, the assault on Franklin’s character gave Deane and his allies the opportunity to argue that the junto was now threatening a genuine American icon.
AFTER BEING ORDERED to return to Philadelphia at the earliest possible opportunity, Deane waited more than a month before Congress agreed to allow him to appear. His testimony was then postponed three times before he was invited to address Congress in late August. Over two humid mornings, Congress listened as Deane reported on his two years of service. He spoke from a few notes and memory, but he was not allowed to take questions from delegates. In his thick drawl President Laurens warned Deane darkly that he would reserve judgment until Congress heard from the “other side,” although it was far from clear what the “other side” would have to say. No one had alleged that Deane had done anything wrong, apart from appointing too many French officers at high salaries. Deane then withdrew to await Congress’s orders. But none came.
In September 1778, Arthur Lee and Ralph Izard wrote to Congress accusing Deane for the first time of financial improprieties. Their letters contained only general statements about Deane’s character and their suspicions, without pointing to any specific transaction or offering any proof. More significantly, Richard Henry Lee came forward to announce that William Carmichael, Deane’s secretary, was in Philadelphia and possessed information about Deane’s financial abuses. Specifically, Carmichael claimed that Deane had used public funds to purchase the privateer Tartar and that Deane would receive a share in the profits from the vessel’s privateering. (In fact, Deane and Morris together had invested their own money in the Tartar for a share of its profits, which was a perfectly legitimate form of investment that posed no conflict with Deane’s public role.) Richard Henry had learned of Carmichael’s allegations through two American merchants who had dealings with Carmichael in France. Deane had retained Carmichael in his employ despite Carmichael’s questionable relationship to the British spy Captain Hynson, and Deane had defended Carmichael against Arthur Lee’s charge that Carmichael himself was a British spy. Now the troubled young man had turned against Deane, and Richard Henry was confident that he could provide the evidence needed to establish Deane’s guilt.
Congress called Carmichael to testify about Deane’s finances, but under questioning from Deane’s critics, Carmichael’s confused allegations collapsed. In fact, Carmichael confessed that he knew of no particular instance in which Deane abused the public’s trust for his own advantage. Deane’s critics quickly realized that Carmichael was not helping to build a case against Deane. James Lovell, a delegate from Massachusetts and one of Deane’s harshest critics, admitted that “Mr. Carmichael seems rather to perplex than clear our Views.” Richard Henry Lee suspected that Carmichael had changed his story and now accused his own witness of conspiring with Deane to hide his crimes.
For Deane, defending himself against unspecified allegations of improper financial dealings seemed nearly impossible. He had left France in March not knowin
g of these allegations, which were not made until the following September. If he had known, it might have been possible to assemble all the financial records and receipts for hundreds of purchases, but the documents he needed were scattered among vendors and agents all over France. Even if Deane had gathered the documents, it would have been foolish for him to travel past British naval lines carrying documentary evidence of his smuggling operations, and it would have been nearly impossible to explain hundreds of transactions to Congress’s satisfaction in any case. He had been instructed by the Secret Committee to maintain the appearance of a private merchant and to continue his private business. For example, he had contracts to purchase goods for the Indians on behalf of the Congress. Were these public or private transactions? Deane had purposefully commingled funds so as to make it impossible for spies to track his arms dealing.
What made the allegations against him especially outrageous was the fact that Congress had never transferred any funds to Deane or paid for any of the arms Deane procured. The Secret Committee had promised Deane a sales commission of five percent on such transactions to support himself while he was in Europe, but nothing was ever paid. The Secret Committee had advanced Deane $200,000 in Continental currency to buy gifts for the Indians, but Congress knew that their paper money had proved nearly worthless. Congress also knew that most of the notes it had given Deane had been rejected by the banks, so that Deane was forced to rely on his own funds and credit to get by until Franklin arrived. Franklin brought with him goods and currency worth nearly 10,000 pounds sterling (about $1.85 million today), and those funds were overseen by all three commissioners. Deane provided Congress with a detailed statement by the commissioners’ banker, Ferdinand Grand, who handled all their funds. Grand’s statement showed that the commissioners had received a total of 3.75 million livres during Deane’s time in Paris and had expended 4.05 million livres (roughly $31 million today). Contrary to Arthur Lee’s charges, Lee had access to these figures and had approved nearly all of the expenditures during his time as commissioner. In fact, Lee himself had complained he could not survive on his stingy allowance as commissioner of 3,000 livres (roughly $23,000 today).
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