It became apparent the British were planning to injure other Americans before William Franklin. To punish Boston for the Tea Party, parliament passed bills the Americans called the
Intolerable Acts
. One closed the port of Boston to shipping until the tea was paid for. Another provided any royal official accused of murder or a similar crime would be tried outside Massachusetts or in England. A third bill annulled the colony's charter, giving the governor dictatorial powers and making him answer only to England.
Then came a law aimed at Franklin. The
Quebec Act
set up a government for the French in Canada and extended the borders of Canada south to the Ohio River, swallowing Franklin's proposed colony. The Americans saw the British were attempting to pin them between the mountains and the sea. Alexander Wedderburn admitted as much, when members of the opposition accused the government of this in debates in parliament over the bills to punish Boston. For Franklin, these Intolerable Acts were more proof the British were planning to oppress America as they had done in Ireland.
In America, the Intolerable Acts had an immediate effect on public opinion. People realized if the British could change one colony's charter, they could change every colony's charter. From Connecticut to Georgia, Americans rallied to support Massachusetts. Food and money poured into Boston to sustain the thousands left jobless by the port's closing. At the same time, leaders of the colonies convened a Continental Congress in Philadelphia to discuss the crisis and unite in opposition to the British.
The surge of American support for Massachusetts stunned the British government. Franklin kept American friends informed. “The coolness, temper & firmness of the American proceedings; the unanimity of all the colonies . . . have a good deal surprized and disappointed our enemies,” he wrote.
Franklin was as concerned about his son. Governor Franklin, an appointee of the king, opposed the Continental Congress. Instead, he suggested a congress of Royal Governors to mediate the quarrel. He urged his father to come home to tell Americans they should make peace with England.
Franklin could barely contain himself. “You say my presence is wish'd for at the Congress,” he wrote, “but no person . . . in America has given me the least intimation of such a desire; and it is thought by the great friends of the colonies here, that I ought to stay till the result of the Congress arrives, when my presence here may be of use.” He told William, “I hear nothing of the proposal you have made for a congress of Governors, &c.” Franklin did not like William's remark that citizens of Massachusetts ought to think of “doing justice before they ask it” and pay for the ruined tea. Franklin disagreed. “They have extorted many thousand pounds from America unconstitutionally, under colour of acts of parliament, and with an armed force. Of this money they ought to make restitution. They might first have taken out payment for the tea, &c., and returned the rest. But you, who are a thorough courtier, see everything with government eyes.”
Franklin exhorted his countrymen to resist. “By its continuance, you will undoubtedly carry all your points: by giving way you will lose every thing. Strong chains will be forged for you, and you will be made to pay for both the iron and the workmanship . . . If you should ever tamely submit to the yoke prepared for you, you cannot conceive how much you will be despised here, even by those who are endeavouring to impose it on you.”
Not every British official wanted war with America. When they saw most Americans were determined to resist parliament, several members of the government, including First Minister Lord North, approached Franklin through private messengers. Two Quaker friends,
David Barclay
and Dr. John Fothergill, asked Franklin if he would negotiate a settlement, stating the principal American demands in ways that might persuade the British to yield.
In the midst of these negotiations, Franklin received news that Deborah had died. He regretted not returning home sooner and prepared to leave. It was nearly three years before Franklin made mention of her death in his writings. “I have lately lost my old and faithful companion,” he wrote, “and I every day become more sensible of the greatness of that loss, which cannot now be repaired.”
Negotiations to prevent the war evaporated as parliament rejected several proposals to make peace with America. Finally, Franklin's Quaker friends told him he was wasting his time negotiating. Whatever pretenses the government offered, “they are all hollow . . . To get a larger field on which to fatten a herd of worthless parasites is all that is regarded.”
War was close, and Franklin dreaded it. He sensed that William disagreed with him on the question of America's independence. On his last day in London, he spent time with an English friend, reading newspapers recently arrived from America. Franklin pointed out articles that might do America some good, if they were reprinted in English papers. “He was frequently not able to proceed for the tears literally running down his cheeks,” the friend said.
Aboard the Pennsylvania ship, bound for Philadelphia, Franklin took with him William Temple Franklin, William's illegitimate son. Through his years in England, Franklin remained close to the boy, bringing him to Craven Street for visits and paying for his education. Now fifteen, he was handsome and intelligent, with skills in drawing and languages. Not expecting to return to England, Franklin was taking Temple home.
The sea was calm, the voyage slow. Franklin spent his time writing the longest letter of his life. It began, “Dear Son,” and it continued for ninety-seven pages, detailing Franklin's secret negotiations with the British government - proof of Franklin's desire to prove to William that America was right and Britain wrong.
When he was not writing, Franklin investigated the Gulf Stream, the large current he had noticed on his first voyage back from England. Now he studied it more carefully, dropping thermometers over the ship and gathering samples of the water, which was bright with phosphorescence. He decided a ship sailing from America to Europe could boost its speed by using the Gulf Stream, since the current ran swiftly in that direction. Going from Europe to America, a ship could save days, perhaps weeks, by avoiding the stream. Franklin decided not to share this for the moment, because if war broke out, it would be useful to the English, who would be sending warships to America.
When Franklin arrived in Philadelphia on May 5, 1775, Americans swarmed the ship to inform him war had begun. Sixteen days earlier, the British had sent a military expedition to Concord, Massachusetts, to seize cannon, gunpowder, and other supplies there. On April 19, fighting broke out in Lexington, and before the day had ended, forty-nine Americans were dead, forty-one wounded, and five missing. The British retreated from Concord, pursued by American minutemen, who suffered seventy-three casualties, with 174 wounded and twenty-six missing.
In New Jersey, William received a letter from his father â the first since he had written to inform him of Deborah's death. The letter, sent from Philadelphia, was how William learned that Franklin had returned from London. The letter was dated two days after Franklin's arrival in Philadelphia. Franklin asked if William had resigned. The answer was no. William felt loyal to the British government because he had not been removed him from office despite his father's activities. Governor Franklin believed the Americans and the British were both to blame. “I don't understand it as any favour to me or to you, the being continued in an office by which, with all your prudence, you cannot avoid running behindhand, if you live suitably to your station,” Franklin wrote. “While you are in it I know you will execute it with fidelity to your master, but I think independence more honourable than any service, and that in the state of American affairs . . . you will find yourself in no uncomfortable situation, and perhaps wish you had soon disengaged yourself.”
Franklin urged William to resign and join the revolution. Neither William nor Joseph Galloway, Franklin's chief political lieutenant in Pennsylvania, agreed. Galloway proposed a plan of union between England and America, and the Continental Congress voted it down. Insulted, he quit Congress and returned home.
On May 10, when a second Continental Congress met in Philadelphia, Franklin was appointed an extra member of the Pennsylvania delegation. He was stunned to discover few agreed with his stance on independence. Among those who did was a young delegate from Virginia,
Thomas Jefferson
. Almost everyone else agreed with
John Dickinson
, leader of the Pennsylvania delegation, who was determined to reconcile England and America. Franklin had tried that in London and knew it was futile. But he kept silent and accepted the opinion of the majority.
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 Franklin 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.