Today in History: October 26, 1776

On October 26, 1776, Benjamin Franklin set off on a diplomatic mission across the Atlantic – to get the French governments financial backing for the Revolution. As is well-known, he was a huge HIT with the French (that’s him in the royal court above) … and he wore little fur caps which became all the rage – and there was a certain breath of freedom and independence in his attitude which really appealed to the French. This was not an easy mission for Franklin. France was still a monarchy. I mean, it only had a couple years to go before heads began to roll (ahem), but it was, in 1776, still a monarchy – and so wasn’t too wacky about supporting this “experiment” in democracy across the water. However, wouldn’t it be fun to stick it to the Brits??? Benjamin Franklin’s success in France is now widely recognized as one of the main reasons that we were able to win the war at all. Not only did he win support for his cause – but he also won over the hearts and minds of the French people. He loved it – he loved the wining, the dining, the free and easy ways of the rich French ladies – he was a social animal. He became the darling of the artistocratic set.

A wonderful example of how he operated is here, in this perhaps apocryphal story (I love how many anecdotes about Franklin are ‘perhaps apocryphal’):

During his sojourn in France – Franklin, always the ladies man, was playing chess with the Duchess of Bourbon, and she didn’t really know what she was doing, or how to play. She placed her king in check. Franklin, not following the rules either (but he KNEW he wasn’t following the rules) captured her king. She knew enough of chess to know that this was not right and scolded him. She said, “In France we do not take kings.”

Franklin replied, “We do in America.”

Ba dum CHING.

But today was the day that his ship sailed.

Here’s an excerpt from The First American – something which, I think, gives great perspective on the enormity of what Franklin was attempting – just on a personal level:

For a man of seventy, suffering from gout and assorted lesser afflictions, to leave his home in the middle of a war, to cross a wintry sea patrolled by enemy warships where commanders could be counted on to know him even if they knew nary another American face, was no small undertaking. John Adams declined nomination in Franklin’s commission; Thomas Jefferson rebuffed election. Yet Franklin had made his decision that America must be free, and he was determined to pay whatever cost his country required. “I have only a few years to live,” he told Benjamin Rush, “and I am resolved to devote them to the work that my fellow citizens deem proper for me; or speaking as old-clothes dealers do of a remnant of goods, ‘You shall have me for what you please.'”

And about the voyage itself:

The passage from America to France was “short but rough,” in Franklin’s contemporary account. His ship, the Reprisal, had been hastily pressed into the service of the fledgling United States navy, and though it was fast enough to capture two British merchantmen en route, it was hardly suited to the comfort of passengers. It pitched violently for nearly the whole of the thirty-day run, allowing Franklin hardly a night’s – or day’s – decent rest. The food was poor; he had to rely on salt beef because the chickens served were too tough for his teeth. His boils and rashes returned. In short, he told his daughter and son-in-law later, the voyage “almost demolished me”.

Almost. But not quite. Thank God!