Category: Benjamin Franklin

  • The French Commission

    Cover art for September 26, 1776: 1785 portrait of Arthur Lee by Charles Willson Peale. via Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia.

    The Continental Congress, in the wake of Washington’s recent letter, finally realized that they weren’t going to be able to defeat the British on their own. Some outside assistance would be needed.

    So on this day in 1776, they appointed a three-man commission to undertake a diplomatic mission to France, seeking money, arms and other materials.

    France, as we’ve mentioned before, was a good country to hit up. They were still salty about the way the French and Indian War ended up, and they’d already been assisting America through gray and black markets, in order to give themselves plausible deniability should someone get caught. Should this mission succeed, the activity would be much more overt, and could be perceived as France’s official recognition of the United States as a sovereign nation.

    It ultimately didn’t work out that way; that particular distinction went to Morocco and France became the second nation to officially recognize the US.

    As Mike notes, the trip itself wouldn’t get underway for another few months, but there’s no doubt that the meeting with French authorities marked a critical turning point for the American Revolution.

  • The Staten Island Peace Conference–September 11, 1776

    Cover art for September 11, 1`776: The Billop House on Staten Island, where the aborted peace conference took place. Via Wikimedia Commons.

    The Staten Island Peace Conference was a bust almost from the beginning. Not because the sides were so opposed, but because one side didn’t have the authority to do any real negotiation.

    John Adams, Edward Rutledge and Benjamin Franklin had to row over from Perth Amboy, New Jersey to get to the Totten House, which is near the southernmost tip of New York State, on Staten Island. At the narrowest point I could find from the vicinity of the house, that’s nearly a half-mile across the mouth of the Arthur Kill River where it opens into Raritan Bay and ultimately the Atlantic Ocean.

    Unfortunately, Admiral Howe was so limited from a diplomatic standpoint that there wasn’t a lot he could do at that point, so after a few hours they broke up and the delegation was allowed to return to New Jersey. The war would continue for another severn years before concluding.

    In retrospect, we have multiple attempts for Admiral Howe to meet with George Washington, which failed on the basis of protocol (Howe wouldn’t refer to Washington as a General), so now we have to wonder what direction negotiations would have gone had one of those attempts succeeded. Would things be different, or would it wind up the same, and the events of today be obviated? If a meeting in July had ended in no agreement, would John Sullivan even have been paroled to go to Philadelphia and present the plan?

    I’ll leave that for you to chew on. In the meantime I’m still sounding pretty sultry, so enjoy that.

  • The Peace Delegation–September 9, 1776

    Cover art for September 9, 1776: portrait of Edward Rutledge, ca. 1791 by James Earl. Via Gibbes Museum of Art, Charleston SC.

    First off, my apologies to you, and to Mike (because it was his episode), for not double-checking that yesterday’s episode was actually loaded into the feed. I’ve been fighting off a ridiculous sinus infection and I think my medication had me woozy.

    On the bright side, I’m probably sounding extra sexy in today’s episode because my head still feels like a brick.

    Yesterday’s show should be in your podcast feed now, though, along with this one.

    Today we have a trio of delegates headed to New York to attempt peace talks with the British. Meanwhile back in Philadelphia, the Congress officially declares that our country’s name is the United States of America. Check out the story behind that.

  • Getting The Finer Details–July 30, 1776

    Cover art for July 30, 1776: Portrait of Rev. John Witherspoon by Rembrandt Peale, c. 1794. via National Portrait Gallery.

    Both Dr. Benjamin Franklin and the Reverend John Witherspoon made good points when they discussed state representation in Congress under the Articles of Confederation they were trying to put together.

    The interesting thing is that the debate sounds very much like a modern-day discussion with regard to the nations that participate in NATO. Smaller nations are feeling a little “pushed out” by larger nations; the larger nations feel as though they’re dealing with most of the burden. And while those larger nations are correct in that the smaller nations aren’t making the contributions to which they initially agreed, it’s a matter of cure, not disengagement.

    At any rate, as Mike notes, the siguation won’t be fully addressed through the Articles of Confederation; ultimately they kicked the can down the road and, when the AoC finally collapsed, our current bicameral legislature attempted to address the large/wealthy states vs. small/poorer states representation conundrum. The system could still use some fixes (e.g. the current total number of Representatives in the House is unconstitutionally low, by literally a couple of decimal places), but it’s all in pursuit of a more perfect Union. We screwed up today but we’ll get it a little more right tomorrow.

    After Reverend John Witherspoon left Congress, he returned to Princeton, where the campus had been badly damaged by the British. He worked diligently to repair the damage. He was also a member of the New Jersey convention that ratified the US Constitution, and he organized the Presbyterian Church in the United States.

  • Prison For Governor Franklin–June 24, 1776

    Cover art for June 24, 1776: portrait of William Franklin, attributed to Mather Brown, ca. 1790. via WIkimedia Commons.

    As Mike notes, we haven’t talked about the Royal Governor of New Jersey, William Franklin, in quite some time. But matters were quickly coming to a head, and it was decided that he needed to be imprisoned. The biggest reason for this is that he not only remained loyal to the Crown, he actively reported to the British anything he heard about American movements and plans.

    William Franklin was finally placed under house arrest in January for these shenanigans, but as things heated up and New Jersey replaced its provincial government, it was determined that he still posed a threat to operational security, and he was sent to Connecticut for imprisonment. And, as Mike also tells you, even prison in Connecticut wasn’t quite getting the job done.

    I guess we have to admire his ability to commit to the bit.

  • The First Draft–June 18, 1776

    Cover art for June 18, 1776: Detail of the original first draft of the Declaration, in Thomas Jefferson's handwriting. The finished engrossed version (what you're used to seeing) has Timothy Matlack's handwriting.

    As Mike notes, marking today as the day that the first draft of the Declaration of Independence was presented to Congress is largely a matter of interpoloation on the part of historians working from incomplete information. But who are we to argue?

    The writing you see in today’s cover art is, in fact, Thomas Jefferson’s, mostly. Some of it is corrections made by Benjamin Franklin. It’s also worth noting that this image came from Wikimedia Commons and is color-adjusted. The original image has the paper looking much whiter, but the parchment coloring makes for a little bit better contrast against the ink.

    Incidentally, some documents from this era do look very good still while others are quite faded. The original Declaration of Independence, for example, is rather faded. This is because over time, the ink oxidized from black to a brownish color. In addition, it was displayed under relatively bright light for many years, and the ultraviolet radiation from those lights further faded the ink. The specific paper can also have an effect; some documents are written on a kind of cotton rag, which allows the ink to “bleed” over time and start to look rather smeared, whereas other documents written on vellum (which was basically calfskin) hold their shape better. In both cases the color holds better unless UV gets to it.

    Oddly enough, paper from the 19th through mid-20th centuries made use of wood pulp, which turns color and becomes more brittle over time, and is more acidic, which will damage the ink as well. So it’s possible that there could be a “hole” in our historical records unless steps are taken to preserve, or at least digitize, some of them.

  • The Declaration Begins–June 11, 1776

    Cover art for June 11, 1776: "Writing the Declaration of Independence 1776" by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris, 1900. via Wikimedia Commons.

    After temporarily tabling the Lee Resolution, which called for our independence from Great Britain, the Second Continental Congress identified its Declaration Committee. Five men were chosen to articulate why we were asking King George to go screw himself in the politest possible terms.

    While the Committee involved five men—John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Roger Sherman and Robert Livingston—most of the work fell to three of them: Jefferson, Adams and Franklin. Jefferson spent a few days working on the first draft in isolation, then Adams and Franklin began reviewing and revising his work.

    The Declaration Committee worked steadily for over two weeks before presenting their finished product to the Congress, though John Hancock did get to see an earlier draft.

  • Back From Canada–May 30, 1776

    Cover art for May 30, 1776: Detail of an oil sketch depicting Samuel Chase, Charles Carroll and Benjamin Franklin on their diplomatic mission to Canada. Father John Carroll's hand is entering from right. Created by J. Carroll Mansfield, probably for an exhibition called Cavalcade of Colonial Maryland, 1943.

    Ben Franklin in Canada isn’t completely unreasonable, even though he was already the oldest delegate to the Continental Congress at 70. He was America’s first diplomat and a very skilled one at that, with oodles of charm.

    But Franklin in Canada was also a bad idea, because his health was bad and it’s not like he could just shoot up the New York Thruway to get there. He had to head up the Hudson River through Albany and Saratoga, and then across Lake Champlain. And he had to do it in wartime, in hostile territory.

    For all that, however, Franklin’s failure in Canada eventually led to the Battle of Saratoga and in turn got the French on our side.

    So maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

  • Once More To Canada–April 20, 1776

    Cover art for April 20, 1776: Map of Montreal and the immediate area, 1761.

    If nothing else, the tenacity of the Continental Congress has to be admired, because sending a delegation to Canada, especially after the recent New Year’s Eve disaster in Quebec, and then the “who knows how well it went” trip in March, was a sign of either eternal optimism or an inability to get the hint.

    It was probably a little of Column A and a little of Column B.

    At any rate, Ben Franklin, Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll headed up to Montrèal to see if relations with Canada could be smoothed over a little bit. And perhaps they could, but the Canadians still weren’t interested in the events going on to their south.

  • From One Postal Official To Another–March 29, 1776

    Cover Art for March 29, 1776: a letter from Ben Franklin to the Secret Correspondence Committee, 1777.

    While we’re focusing on one letter written by Benjamin Franklin today, written to Anthony Todd, it’s rather impressive the sheer number and breadth of letters written by, or to, Franklin during his lifetime as a statesman.

    There is a collaborative effort going on between Yale University and the American Philospohical Society, among others, to search, collect and publish the various works of Benjamin Franklin. So far over forty volumes have been published since 1959, and the scholars involved are pretty sure that number will surpass 50.

    Important to this effort is the fact that Franklin saved a lot of his correspondence specifically for the sake of posterity. As a result we have perhaps a more complete collection of what historians like to call “primary sources” of materials than for any other Founding Father. What’s more, Franklin didn’t just dash off quick notes; he treated them like miniature works of art and crafted their composition. This came in handy when he edited the first draft of the Declaration of Independence. It was his suggestion that the phrase “We hold these truths to be self-evident” whereas Jefferson had described them as “sacred and undeniable.”

    The full text of Franklin’s letter can be found here.