An Experiment in Treason (12 page)

At that there was a bit of tittering from those round the table, as if they were amused that anyone would dare to speak in such a way to one as wise as Franklin.

He went on to tell of indications passed on to him by others. As an instance, a captain who had spent time in Bermuda told him that spear fishermen there would pour a bit of oil upon the surface of the sea when it was rough. The oil would calm the surface, so that they might strike at the fish when they spied them near the boat. Et cetera, et cetera, on and on, with example follo”wing example until it seemed to me that he was in danger of losing his audience.

He said he had tried out his theory at a pond in Clapham. On a day on which the wind roiled the pond surface into proper waves, he emptied a cruet of oil on the leeward side, where the waves were strongest, without much effect. But when he went to the windward side, it took little more than a spoonful to spread across a surface of about half an acre and turn it into one “smooth as a looking glass.”

That much having been accomplished, it remained for the theory to be tested on the sea. That was made possible by Captain Bentinck who offered a longboat and a barge from his own vessel that oil might be spread upon the surface — yet here ‘twas more than half an acre to be covered, rather a pair of miles was to be spread o’er. I have detailed at the beginning of this work how badly and in what way the experiment failed, yet Franklin would say only that results were “unsatisfactory.” There was an air of general disappointment at the table at his pronouncement.

“But surely,” said Lady Fielding, “you proved your theory already there in Clapham at that pond.”

“Ah, but you see,” said he, “calming the rough waters of a pond is of little practical importance. To be truly of value, it must be made to work upon the sea.”

“Mr. Franklin,” said Gabriel Donnelly, “you indicated that it was likely that you will attempt the experiment once again.”

“That is correct, sir.”

“What things, if any, will you change when and if you do make a second attempt?”

“I would have the vessels stay farther from shore and perhaps change the sort of oil that would be used.”

“Oh?” said Mr. Donnelly. “What sort of oil was used in Portsmouth?”

“Whale oil. I have a notion to use petroleum.”

“Petroleum?” echoed Samuel Johnson. “What is that? What good is it?”

“Not good for much at all, sir, yet it is heavy, thick, and viscous. The weight of it alone may serve to smooth the waves.”

“Well, it will take a very weighty substance indeed to still the surface of Portsmouth Harbor,” growled Sir John from the head of the table. “But in the course of flattening them out, you may make the waters of the harbor unusable for any other ship traffic. Would that be part of your plan? Surely not.”

“Certainty not,” said Franklin, all indignant at Sir John’s warning.

“Then you would be well advised to put petroleum aside and attempt your experiment with whale oil again in some quiet, well-protected inlet. It may not succeed, but at least it will do no damage.”

Benjamin Franklin had been properly stung, and it appeared that he meant to sting back.

“May I ask, sir, on what authority you, as a magistrate, speak to such matters? That is to say, do you have some special know-ledge of the properties of petroleum? Have you a maritime background?”

“As to petroleum, or ‘rock oil,’ as I have heard it called,” said Sir John, “I have no special knowledge of it, but I do know that it has been used in street lamps because it burns slow and steadily. A link-man of my acquaintance did once invite me to test the stuff by touch, and I found it as you said, thick, viscous, and sticky — altogether unsuitable for spreading upon harbor waters. And yes, though it is many years in the past, I do have a maritime background. I served as a midshipman in the Royal Navy. I lost my sight in the siege of Cartagena, near forty years past, during the war with the Spanish and the French.”

Franklin seemed so totally defeated by Sir John’s sharp response to his challenge that in truth he seemed to shrink before our eyes. The table went silent for a long moment until the silence was broken by a single “Ha! ” It came from none but Molly Sarton, who had quietly resumed her place whilst the guest was grandly discoursing upon the long development of his oil-upon-water theory. He turned and threw her a withering look. Then did he shift in his seat in such a manner that I, for one, thought he was preparing to leap to his feet and leave. But no, he simply sat up straight in his chair, faced Sir John and asked his forgiveness.

“Nothing to forgive,” said the magistrate.

“I meant to give no offense by doubting your authority to challenge mine. I shall bear in mind what you have said regarding petroleum.”

“I took no offense, Mr. Franklin, yet it is I who may be begging your forgiveness before the evening is done, sir.”

“Oh? How is that?”

“Let us finish our dinner before getting into it, shall we?”

“If you say so, of course, but I shall be on pins and needles till then.”

And that was what we did. We waited through two more courses and another bottle of wine. Franklin was not the only one who was left on pins and needles. All were noticeably quieter. Each — even the best-informed of us — seemed to wonder what would come at the end of the meal. Sir John had certainly sent his guest of honor into a state of confusion. All the bravado and swag-ger had been taken out of him by the time the last dishes were cleared from the table.

“Jeremy,” said Sir John, “why don’t you break out that bottle of French brandy that Mr. Bilbo gave to us and offer it to the gentlemen at the table. Now the ladies may stay or leave, as is their wish.” They stayed, of course, and all but Clarissa imbibed the brandy.

Benjamin Franklin remarked as I poured the brandy into his glass that it was not his custom to take strong drink. “But perhaps,” he added in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “it’s best that I take a glass to fortify myself for what lies ahead.” Thus did he indicate, at least to me, that he had begun to regain a bit of his former confidence.

Yet once all were served, Sir John wasted no time in getting to the matter at hand.

“Mr. Franklin?”

“Uh, yes. Sir John, but may I ask a favor?”

“Certainly.”

“Would you mind addressing me as Dr. Franklin? It is a petty thing, perhaps, for the doctorate I was awarded was but an honorary one. Still, I am entitled to it, and I do prefer it.”

Even before Franklin had quite finished his explanation, Samuel Johnson fell into a fit of coughing. So severe was it that Clarissa bounced up from her chair and belabored him upon his back with her open hand. (Sir John and I were probably the only two others who knew the cause of Johnson’s upset: He, too, had an honorary doctorate < — his from Oxford University — but would allow none to address him so.) I daresay Franklin had indeed regained his self-assurance.

“Then, Dr. Franklin, if you will, what do you know of the burglary at Lord Hillsborough’s residence in Whitehall? “

“What do I know? Only what I have read of it in the Public Ad-vert’uer. But why? Am I in some sense suspect in that matter? I can assure you that I — “

“Allow me to ask the questions, please.”

“Yes, of course.”

“But since you asked if you were suspect, I shall tell you that I have in no wise come to any conclusion in the matter, but there are evidently some who have. I have been urged ‘in the strongest terms possible’ to question you with regard to the burglary. I do not like being told how to conduct an investigation, and so I chose this way to go about it.”

“This way? I don’t quite understand.”

“I thought to conduct it here at dinner — or afterward — when we had both eaten our fill and had a bit to drink. Far better, don’t you think, than having brought you in for questioning as would be done with any common criminal.”

“It was either one or the other?”

“So it seemed to me.”

“Then I much prefer the way that you have chosen.”

“Very well then. Let us continue. You were, I take it, in Portsmouth on the night the burglary of Lord Hillsborough took place?”

“That was the night before the experiment in Portsmouth Harbor? Oh yes, indeed I was, and I remained there a second night, as well.”

“What is your relationship with Lord Hillsborough, sir?”

“Well, professional, I suppose. He, as secretary of state for the American colonies, has been the man with whom I dealt in all matters which pertained to the colonies I represent.”

“Do you represent ail the American colonies?”

“Oh no, nothing of the kind — only four: Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Georgia, and New Jersey.”

“I see. And what has been the tenor of your relations with Lord Hillsborough?”

“Well, it is no secret that we have not gotten on well. He makes no effort to understand the position of the colonies on many issues I put before him. He even attempted to have me silenced as regards my work as agent for the State of Massachusetts. He claimed the Massachusetts House of Representatives had no right to appoint me as its agent, for, as he claimed, such appointment was invalid unless assented to by the governor of Massachusetts, Thomas Hutchinson, who was himself appointed by the king. I insisted that I was not the governor’s appointment but the appointment o( the people of Massachusetts, acting through the Massachusetts House. Lord Hillsborough did not like that well, and since then we have had little to say, one to the other.”

Reader, during that last response of Mr. Franklin’s I noticed a change come over him. He had, up to then, seemed lascivious, pompous, and petty by turns — and above all, was he foolish. He had not, in any of these previous modes, impressed me favorably. But I noted that as he talked of his conflict with Lord Hillsborough, the tone of his voice rose to a pitch of passion and conviction. The disagreement between the two was, after all, a philosophical one, was it not? It was a question of who carried the greater authority: the governor, with the power of the King behind him, or the House of Representatives, whose power was granted them by the people of Massachusetts? Either side, it seemed to me, could be argued, yet it was with near religious fervor that he declared himself; and when he spoke the word “people,” he made a sort of climax of it, so that as he sang it forth, his rather thin, reedy voice took on unexpected strength. I doubted not that, given the proper cause, he could sho-w himself a most gifted debater.

Nor was I the only one at the table who noticed the change in Benjamin Franklin. Clarissa turned to me and raised her eyebrows right at the climactic word. And just as Franklin concluded, Mr. Donnelly caught my eye, pouted his lower lip, and nodded — a positive appraisal.

Sir John, too, must have noticed, for he paused for some several moments in his interrogation of Franklin, waiting — for what? For his subject to recover himself? That was not the magistrate’s usual way, certainly. Yet it was not long before he resumed.

“Tell me,” said Sir John, “have you any idea what was taken from Lord Hillsborough’s residence?”

For an instant. Dr. Franklin could do naught but gape in surprise. “Don’t
you
know?”

“I could simply caution you once again that I am the one who asks the questions. But I shall not. I shall confess instead that I do not know what was stolen. It has not been revealed to me, and that I find to be the most annoying aspect of this most irritating case. And so, I pray you, accept my question in the spirit in which it was asked. Do you know what was taken from the Hillsborough residence?”

“In a word, sir, no. I do not know what was taken. I would hazard that only those who committed the theft know that.”

“No, not likely, not
only.
We’ve a good notion who it was — and if they are who we think, they would have no use for what has most likely been taken. This was almost certainly a case of burglary committed for hire. We may rest assured then that those who ordered it done also know what was taken. The limited information I have from Lord Hillsborough indicates that what was taken was not to do with him personally; that it would have been of value only to a few people in London; and finally that it was, in fact, a packet of letters. Now you. Dr. Franklin, know as much as I do, but you are far better able to
guess
what might be the content of those letters than I ever could. So I invite you, sir: guess, suppose, conjecture!”

With that, both men sat silent for near a minute. There was perceptible tension amongst the rest at the table. Looks were exchanged. Two or three found it necessary to clear their throats. Samuel Johnson fidgeted.

Franklin began: “Clearly, the letters have to do with his position as secretary for American colonies.”

“Yes, go on.”

“Well, since you were directed — urgently — to give attention to me in your investigation, those letters must have to do with at least one of the four colonies which I represent. It also means that I am one — perhaps, in Lord Hillsborough’s opinion, the first — of those few men in London to whom the letters would have value. The question, I suppose, is which of the four colonies do they deal with?”

“That should be easy,” said Sir John.

“Why do you say that?” Suddenly Franklin seemed a bit tetchy — or sensitive at the very least.

“Well, because it is commonly held that Massachusetts is the most fractious of the colonies. The Adams brothers have achieved a certain notoriety even here in England, for their unruliness. Both of them are, I believe, members of that body which appointed you.”

“But what has that to do with — “

“They — or one of them — may have been singled out for trial in these missing letters.”

“Trial? On what charge?” treason.

At that Benjamin Franklin forced a laugh. “That, Sir John, is ridiculous. They are as loyal to the Crown as I.”

“None of this should be cause for laughter. First of all, keep in mind that this is not only a burglary investigation, but a search for a murderer as well.”

“Oh well … I meant no … that is to say …”

“Furthermore, ‘twas just yesterday I heard Lord Mansfield declare that what was needed to solve our problems with the American colonies was a good, old-fashioned treason trial followed by a public execution.”