The war had not been long waging before overtures and soundings concerning an accommodation, abetted and sometimes instigated by the cabinet, began to come from England. Nearly all these were addressed to Franklin, because all Europe persisted in regarding him as the one authentic representative of America, and because Englishmen of all parties had long known and respected him far beyond any other American. In March, 1778, William Pulteney, a member of Parliament, came under an assumed name to Paris and had an interview with him. But it seemed that England would not renounce the theory of the power of Parliament over the colonies, though willing by way of favor to forego its exercise. Franklin declared an arrangement on such a basis to be impossible.

A few months later there occurred the singular and mysterious episode of Charles de Weissenstein. Such was the signature to a letter dated at Brussels, June 16, 1778. The writer said that independence was an impossibility, and that the English title to the colonies, being indisputable, would be enforced by coming generations even if the present generation should have to "stop awhile in the pursuit to recover breath;" he then sketched a plan of reconciliation, which included offices or life pensions for Franklin, Washington, and other prominent rebels. He requested a personal interview with Franklin, and, failing that, he appointed to be in a certain spot in Notre Dame at a certain hour, wearing a rose in his hat, to receive a written reply. The French police reported the presence at the time and place of a man obviously bent upon this errand, who was traced to his hotel and found, says John Adams, to be "Colonel Fitz-something, an Irish name, that I have forgotten." He got no answer, because at a consultation between the American commissioners and de Vergennes it was so decided. But one had been written by Franklin, and though de Weissenstein and Colonel Fitz-something never saw it, at least it has afforded pleasure to thousands of readers since that time. For by sundry evidence Franklin became convinced, even to the point of alleging that he "knew," that the incognito correspondent was the English monarch himself, whose letter the Irish colonel had brought. The extraordinary occasion inspired him. It is a rare occurrence when one can speak direct to a king as man with man on terms of real equality. Franklin seized his chance, and wrote a letter in his best vein, a dignified, vigorous statement of the American position, an eloquent, indignant arraignment of the English measures for which George III. more than any other one man was responsible. In language which was impassioned without being extravagant, he mingled sarcasm and retort, statement and argument, with a strenuous force that would have bewildered the royal "de Weissenstein." To this day one cannot read these stinging paragraphs without a feeling of disappointment that de Vergennes would not let them reach their destination. Such a bolt should have been sent hotly home, not dropped to be picked up as a curiosity by the groping historians of posterity.

The good Hartley also was constantly toiling to find some common ground upon which negotiators could stand and talk. One of his schemes, which now seems an idle one, was for a long truce, during which passions might subside and perhaps a settlement be devised. Franklin ever lent a courteous ear to any one who spoke the word Peace. But neither this strong feeling, nor any discouragement by reason of American reverses, nor any arguments of Englishmen ever induced him to recede in the least from the line of demands which he thought reasonable, nor to abate his uncompromising plainness of speech.

With the outbreak of war Franklin's feelings towards England had taken on that extreme bitterness which so often succeeds when love and admiration seem to have been misplaced. "I was fond to a folly," he said, "of our British connections, ... but the extreme cruelty with which we have been treated has now extinguished every thought of returning to it, and separated us forever. You have thereby lost limbs that will never grow again." English barbarities, he declared, "have at length demolished all my moderation." Often and often he reiterated such statements in burning words, which verge more nearly upon vehemence than any other reminiscence which survives to us of the great and calm philosopher.

Yet in the bottom of his heart he felt that the chasm should not be made wider and deeper than was inevitable. In 1780 he told Hartley that Congress would fain have had him "make a school-book" from accounts of "British barbarities," to be illustrated by thirty-five prints by good artists of Paris, "each expressing one or more of the different horrid facts, ... in order to impress the minds of children and posterity with a deep sense of your bloody and insatiable malice and wickedness." He would not do this, yet was sorely provoked toward it. "Every kindness I hear of done by an Englishman to an American prisoner makes me resolve not to proceed in the work, hoping a reconciliation may yet take place. But every fresh instance of your devilism weakens that resolution, and makes me abominate the thought of a reunion with such a people."

In point of fact the idea of an actual reunion seems never from the very outset to have had any real foothold in his mind. In 1779 he said: "We have long since settled all the account in our own minds. We know the worst you can do to us, if you have your wish, is to confiscate our estates and take our lives, to rob and murder us; and this ... we are ready to hazard rather than come again under your detested government."[77] This sentiment steadily gained strength as the struggle advanced. Whenever he talked about terms of peace he took a tone so high as must have seemed altogether ridiculous to English statesmen. Independence, he said, was established; no words need be wasted about that. Then he audaciously suggested that it would be good policy for England "to act nobly and generously; ... to cede all that remains in North America, and thus conciliate and strengthen a young power, which she wishes to have a future and serviceable friend." She would do well to "throw in" Canada, Nova Scotia, and the Floridas, and "call it ... an indemnification for the burning of the towns."

Englishmen constantly warned him of the blunder which the colonies would commit, should they "throw themselves into the arms" of France, and they assured him that the alliance was the one "great stumbling-block in the way of making peace." But he had ever the reply, after the fashion of Scripture: By their fruits ye shall know them. France was as liberal of friendship and good services as England was of tyranny and cruelties. This was enough to satisfy Franklin; he saw no Judas in the constant and generous de Vergennes, and could recognize no inducement to drop the substance France for the shadow England.[78] To his mind it seemed to concern equally the honor and the interest of the States to stand closely and resolutely by their allies, whom to abandon would be "infamy;" and after all, what better bond could there be than a common interest and a common foe? From this view he never wavered to the hour when the definitive treaty of peace was signed.[79]

Such was Franklin's frame of mind when the surrender at Yorktown and the events incident to the reception of the news in England at last brought peace into really serious consideration. The States had already been forward to place themselves in a position for negotiating at the first possible moment. For in 1779 Congress had received from France an intimation that it would be well to have an envoy in Europe empowered to treat; and though it was seizing time very much by the forelock, yet that body was in no mood to dally with so pleasing a hint, and at once nominated John Adams to be plenipotentiary. This, however, by no means, fell in with the schemes of the French ministry, for de Vergennes knew and disliked Mr. Adams's very unmanageable character. Accordingly the French ambassador at Philadelphia was instructed to use his great influence with Congress to effect some amelioration of the distasteful arrangement, and he soon covertly succeeded in inducing Congress to create a commission by appointing Adams, Jay, Franklin, Jefferson, who never went on the mission, and Laurens, who was a prisoner in England and joined his colleagues only after the business had been substantially concluded. Adams promptly came to Paris, created a great turmoil there, as has been in part narrated, and passed on to Holland, where he still remained. Jay, accredited to, but not yet received by, the Spanish court, was at Madrid. Franklin therefore alone was on hand in Paris when the great tidings of the capture of Cornwallis came.

It was on November 25, 1781, that Lord North got this news, taking it "as he would have taken a ball in his breast." He recognized at once that "all was over," yet for a short time longer he retained the management of affairs. But his majority in Parliament was steadily dwindling, and evidently with him also "all was over." In his despair he caught with almost pathetic eagerness at what for a moment seemed a chance to save his ministry by treating with the States secretly and apart from France. He was a man not troubled with convictions, and having been obstinate in conducting a war for which he really cared little, he was equally ready to save his party by putting an end to it with the loss of all that had been at stake. Franklin, however, decisively cut off that hope. America, he assured Hartley, would not forfeit the world's good opinion by "such perfidy;" and in the incredible event of Congress instructing its commissioners to treat upon "such ignominious terms," he himself at least "would certainly refuse to act." So Digges, whom Franklin described as "the greatest villain I ever met with," carried back no comfort from secret, tentative errands to Adams in Holland and to Franklin in France. Simultaneous furtive advances to de Vergennes met with a like rebuff. France and America were not to be separated; Lord North and his colleagues were not to be saved by the bad faith of either of their enemies. On February 22, 1782, an address to the king against continuing the American war was moved by Conway. It was carried by a majority of nineteen. A few days later a second, more pointed, address was carried without a division. The next day leave was granted to bring in a bill enabling the king to make a peace or a truce with the colonies. The game was up; the ministry held no more cards to play; on March 20 Lord North announced that his administration was at an end.

In his shrewd, intelligent fashion, Franklin was watching these events, perfectly appreciating the significance of each in turn. On March 22 he seized an opportunity which chance threw in his way for writing to Lord Shelburne a short note, in which he suggested a hope that the "returning good disposition" of England towards America would "tend to produce a general peace." It was a note of a few lines only, seemingly a mere pleasant passage of courtesy to an old friend, but significant and timely, an admirable specimen of the delicate tact with which Franklin could meet and almost create opportunity. A few days later the cabinet of Lord Rockingham was formed, composed of the friends of America. In it Charles Fox was secretary for foreign affairs, and Lord Shelburne had the home department, including the colonies. No sooner were the new ministers fairly instated than Shelburne dispatched Richard Oswald, a retired Scotch merchant, of very estimable character, of good temper, reasonable views, and sufficient ability, to talk matters over with Franklin at Paris. Oswald arrived on April 12, and had satisfactory interviews with Franklin and de Vergennes. The important fact of which he became satisfied by the explicit language of Franklin was, that the hope of inducing the American commissioners to treat secretly and separately from France was utterly groundless.[80] After a few days he went back to London, carrying a letter from Franklin to Shelburne, in which Franklin expressed his gratification at these overtures and his hope that Oswald might continue to represent the English minister. Oswald also carried certain "Notes for Conversation," which Franklin had written out; "some loose thoughts on paper," as he called them, "which I intended to serve as memorandums for my discourse, but without a fixed intention of showing them to him." As matters turned out later, it would have been better if Franklin had not been quite so free with these "memorandums," which contained a suggestion that the English should cede Canada and the Americans should recoup the losses of the royalists. Indeed, no sooner had the paper left his hands than he saw his error, and was "a little ashamed of his weakness." The letter only was shown to the whole cabinet.

On May 5 Oswald was again in Paris, charged to discuss terms with Franklin. But on May 7 there arrived also Thomas Grenville, deputed by Fox to approach de Vergennes with the design not only of treating with France, but also of treating with the States through France. The double mission indicated a division in the English cabinet. Fox and Shelburne were almost as hostile to each other as were both to Lord North; and each was aiming to control the coming negotiations with the States. Which should secure it was a nice question. For English purposes of classification the States, until independence was acknowledged, remained colonies, and so within the charge of Shelburne. Hence came Fox's scheme for reaching them indirectly through France, also his avowed willingness to recognize their independence immediately, for foreign business belonged to him. Shelburne, on the other hand, strenuously resisted this; at worst, as he thought, independence must come through a treaty, and with equivalents. Moreover it seems that he cherished an odd, half-defined notion, apparently altogether peculiar to himself, that he might escape the humiliation of a grant of full independence, and in place thereof might devise some sort of "federal union." Perhaps it was out of this strange fancy that there grew at this time a story that the States were to be reconciled and joined to Great Britain by a gift of the same measure of autonomy enjoyed by Ireland.

When Oswald and Franklin next met, they made at first little progress; each seemed desirous to keep himself closed while the other unfolded. The result was that Franklin wrote, with unusual naÏvetÉ: "On the whole I was able to draw so little of the sentiments of Lord Shelburne ... that I could not but wonder at his being again sent to me." At the same time Grenville was offering to de Vergennes to acknowledge the independence of the United States, provided that in other respects the treaty of 1763[81] should be reinstated. That is to say, France was to agree to a complete restoration of the status quo ante bellum in every respect so far as her own interests were concerned, and to accept as the entire recompense for all her expenditures of money and blood a benefit accruing to the American States. This was a humorous assumption of the ingenuousness of her most disinterested protestations. The French minister, we are told, "seemed to smile" at this compliment to the unselfishness of his chivalrous nation,[82] and replied that the American States were making no request to England for independence. As Franklin happily expressed it: "This seems to me a proposition of selling to us a thing that was already our own, and making France pay the price they [the English] are pleased to ask for it." But the design of weaning the States from France, in the treating, was obvious.

Grenville, thus checked, next tried to see what he could do with Franklin in the way of separate negotiation. But he only elicited a statement that the States were under no obligations save those embodied in the treaties of alliance and commerce with France, and a sort of intimation, which might be pregnant of much or of little, that if the purpose of the former were achieved through the recognition of independence, then the commercial treaty alone would remain. This somewhat enigmatical remark doubtless indicated nothing more than that the States would not continue active and aggressive hostilities in order to further purely French designs. Clearly it would depend upon the demands of France whether the States might not find themselves in a somewhat delicate position. Their obligation to make no separate peace with England had been contracted upon the basis that France should ally herself with them to obtain their independence; and the injury expected to result therefrom to England, with the chance of commercial advantages accruing to France, had been regarded as a full consideration. Yet it would seem ungrateful, to say the least, to step out of the fight and leave France in it, and to refuse to back her demands for the recoupment of some of the losses which she had suffered in the previous war. But now the French alliance with Spain threatened grave complications; she had joined France in the war, and the two powers were held closely together by the Bourbon family interests. Spain now had demands of her own in the way of territory on the American continent, where she had made extensive conquests, and even for the cession of Gibraltar. But the States owed little to Spain, vastly less, indeed, than they had tried to owe to her; for their incessant begging had elicited only small sums, and they were more irritated at their failure to obtain much than thankful for the trifles they had extorted. So they now easily and gladly took the position of entire freedom from any obligation, either by treaty or of honor, towards that power. But in the probable event of France standing by Spain, peace might be deferred for the benefit of a country with which the States had no lien, unless the States could treat separately. It was not within the purview of the treaty that they should remain tied to France for such purposes; and to this purport Fox wrote to Grenville. But though it might be tolerably easy to enunciate a theory by which the States could justly control their own affairs, with no regard to France, it was only too probable that the application of that theory to circumstances would be a very nice and perplexing task. It strongly behooved a new country to preserve its good name and its friendships.

If Fox had been able to carry his point, matters might have moved more expeditiously. But pending the struggle between him and Shelburne no advance could be made at Paris. Grenville and Oswald could not work in unison. Franklin and de Vergennes became puzzled and suspicious, having only an imperfect inkling by report and gossip concerning the true state of affairs. They suspected, with good show of evidence, that the real object of English diplomacy was to drive in a wedge between the allies. Amid these perplexities, on April 22, Franklin wrote to Jay, begging him to come to Paris: "Here you are greatly wanted, for messengers begin to come and go, ... and I can neither make nor agree to conditions of peace without the assistance of my colleagues.... I wish therefore you would ... render yourself here as soon as possible. You would be of infinite service." Jay arrived on June 23, to Franklin's "great satisfaction," and the meeting was cordial. Jay was thirty-seven years old, and Franklin was seventy-six, but Jay says: "His mind appears more vigorous than that of any man of his age I have known. He certainly is a valuable minister and an agreeable companion."

The deadlock continued. Grenville showed a commission to treat with France and "any other prince or state." But the "enabling act," giving the king authority to acknowledge the independence of the States, had not yet been passed by Parliament; and it did not appear that England recognized the ex-colonies as constituting either a prince or a state. Oswald had no commission at all. Franklin, though he found himself "in some perplexity with regard to these two negotiations," strove to set things in motion. He preferred Oswald to Grenville, and intimated to Lord Shelburne his wish that Oswald should receive exclusive authority to treat with the American commissioners. He at the same time suggested sundry necessary articles to be disposed of by the treaty, namely: independence, boundaries, and the fisheries; and sundry advisable articles, namely: an indemnity to be granted by England to the sufferers by the war; an acknowledgment of her error by England, and the cession of Canada.

But the duel between Shelburne and Fox must first be settled, and it was now about to be settled suddenly and in an unexpected manner. On July 1, 1782, Lord Rockingham died, and the crown, as Walpole facetiously remarked, thereby descended to the king of England. The monarch at once, though very reluctantly, requested Shelburne to accept the post of prime minister, regarding him as in some degree less obnoxious than Fox. Thereupon Fox and his friends retired in high dudgeon from office, and Grenville promptly asked to be recalled. His opportune request was granted very readily, and his place was given to Fitzherbert, who brought personal letters to Franklin, but who was not accredited to treat with the States. It seemed that this business was now again to fall into the hands of Oswald, and accordingly, though he still remained without any definite authority, active discussion was resumed between him and Franklin. Early in August both believed that an understanding upon all important points had been reached. Jay had been ill almost ever since his arrival in Paris, and was only now recovering; Adams was still in Holland; so that Franklin and Oswald had had the whole matter between themselves.

Just at this time Parliament rose; and Shelburne sent Vaughan to Paris to give private assurance to Franklin that there would be no change in policy towards America. A commission was at the same time drawn up and sent to Oswald empowering him to treat with commissioners of the "colonies or plantations, and any body or bodies corporate or politic, or any assembly or assemblies." This singular phraseology at once produced trouble. Jay indignantly repudiated the colonial condition imputed by this language, and resolutely said that independence must be no item in any treaty, but must be recognized before he would even begin to treat. The point was discussed by him with de Vergennes and Franklin. The French minister at first had "objected to these general words as not being particular enough;" but now he changed his mind and advised not to stickle; for independence must be the result of the treaty, and it was not to be expected that the effect should precede the cause. Franklin, with evident hesitation and reluctance,[83] gave his opinion that the commission "would do." Oswald then showed his instructions, which directed him to concede "the complete independence of the thirteen States." Unfortunately the enabling act had not even yet passed, so that there was some doubt as to the power of the ministers to agree to this. Jay's determination remained unchanged; for he suspected that the motives of de Vergennes were not disinterested, and thought that Franklin was hoodwinked by his French predilections. Franklin, on the other hand, thought that the minister wished only to expedite the negotiation as much as possible, a matter in which he himself also was very zealous; for he understood the English political situation and knew that Shelburne's tenure of power was precarious, and that any possible successor of Shelburne would be vastly less well-disposed to the States. This induced him to stretch a point in order to go on with the treating. Parliament was to meet on November 26, and unless peace could be concluded before that time, the chance for it thereafter would be diminished almost to the point of hopelessness. But Adams wrote from Holland that he also disapproved the unusual form of the commission, though a commission to treat with envoys of "the United States of America" would satisfy him, as a sufficient implication of independence without an explicit preliminary acknowledgment of it.

About the middle of August Jay drew up a letter, suggesting very ingeniously that it was incompatible with the dignity of the king of England to negotiate except with an independent power; also that an obstacle which meant everything to the States, but nothing to Great Britain, should be removed by his majesty. Franklin thought that the letter expressed too positively the resolve not to treat save upon this basis of pre-acknowledged independence. He evidently did not wish to bolt too securely the door through which he anticipated that the commissioners might in time feel obliged to withdraw. Moreover Jay thought that at this time "the doctor seemed to be much perplexed and fettered by our instructions to be guided by the advice of this court," a direction correctly supposed to have been procured by the influence of the French envoy at Philadelphia.

Jay's suspicions concerning the French minister happened now to receive opportune corroboration. On September 4 Rayneval, secretary to de Vergennes, had a long interview with Jay concerning boundaries, in which he argued strongly against the American claims to the western lands lying between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi. This touched Jay nearly, for the navigation of the Mississippi was the one object which he had especially at heart. Six days later the famous letter of Marbois, de la Luzerne's secretary, which had been captured en route from Philadelphia to de Vergennes at Paris, was put into the hands of Jay through the instrumentality of the English cabinet. This outlined a scheme for a secret understanding between England and France to deprive the Americans of the Newfoundland fisheries. This evidence seemed to prove Jay's case; yet Franklin remained strangely unshaken by it, for he reflected that it came from the British ministry and was infected with suspicion by this channel. But still another occurrence came to strengthen Jay's conviction of some latent hostility in the French policy, for he learned that Rayneval was making a rapid and secret journey to London. He felt sure that this errand was to intimate to Shelburne that France did not incline to support the demands of her American allies. In the fullness of his faith he took a courageous, very unconventional, but eminently successful step. He persuaded Vaughan to hasten to London, and to present sundry strong arguments going to show that it was the true policy of England to grant the demands of the States rather than to fall in with the subtle plans of France. He felt with regret that he could not consult Franklin regarding this proceeding, which he undertook upon his own sole responsibility. It put Shelburne in a singular position, as arbiter between two nations enemies of England and allies of each other, but each manoeuvring to secure its own advantage at the cost of its friend, and to that end presuming to advise him upon English interests. He did not ponder long before accepting the American arguments as the better, and deciding that the English policy was rather to be liberal towards a kindred people than to unite with a traditional foe in curtailing their prosperity. He said to Vaughan: "Is the new commission necessary?" "It is," replied Vaughan; and his lordship at once gave orders for making it out. Had he fallen in with the French ideas, he would, upon the contrary, have cherished this disagreement for a while, in order finally to sell out a concession on this point at the price of some such substantial matter as the fisheries or the western lands. Forthwith Vaughan was on his way back to Paris, accompanied by a messenger who carried the amended document empowering Oswald to treat with the commissioners of the "Thirteen United States of America, viz.: New Hampshire," etc., naming them all. "We have put the greatest confidence, I believe, ever placed in man, in the American commissioners. It is now to be seen how far they or America are to be depended upon.... There never was such a risk run; I hope the public will be the gainer, else our heads must answer for it, and deservedly." Such were the grave and anxious words of the prime minister.

Upon the receipt of this commission negotiations were actively resumed, Franklin and Jay on one side, Oswald alone on the other. The old ground was gone over again. On October 5-8, both parties assented to a sketch of a treaty, which Oswald transmitted to London for consideration by the ministry. But the raising of the siege of Gibraltar, and reflection upon the probable results of the incipient estrangement between American interests and those of France and Spain, now induced the English to hope for more favorable terms in some particulars. So instead of adopting this draft they sent over Mr. Strachey, a man especially well informed concerning the disputed boundaries, to reinforce Oswald in an effort to obtain modifications on these points.

Meantime another serious difference of opinion was developed between Franklin and Jay. The influence of de Vergennes at Philadelphia had by no means been exhausted in securing colleagues for Mr. Adams. He had further desired to have the American envoys instructed that no American demands outside of independence must be allowed to interpose obstacles in the way of French purposes. In this he had been wholly successful. Of the demands which Congress had at first intended to insist upon, one after another was reduced to a mere recommendation, until at last independence alone was left as an absolute and definitive ultimatum. Moreover the closing paragraph of the instructions actually bade the envoys to maintain constant communication with their generous ally the king of France, and in the last resort to be governed in all matters by his advice. This servility had raised the ire of Jay almost to the point of inducing him to refuse a post so hedged around with humiliation. With his views concerning the intentions of de Vergennes it now seemed to him intolerable to jeopard American interests by placing them at the mercy of a cabinet which unmistakably, as it seemed to him, designed to sacrifice them to its own ends. Accordingly he was for disobeying this unworthy instruction of Congress, and for conducting the negotiation in strict secrecy as towards the French minister. But Franklin was no less resolute on the other side. His established and grateful confidence in de Vergennes remained unshaken, and he saw no error in consulting the wisest, and by all proofs the best and truest friend whom the States had ever had. Moreover he saw that the orders of Congress were imperative. It was a serious division. Fortunately it was soon settled by the advent of John Adams, about the end of October. That gentleman, prompt, fearless, and suspicious, at once fell in with Jay's views. In a long evening's talk he apparently read Franklin a pretty severe lecture, and certainly ranged himself very positively on Jay's side. Franklin listened to his vehement colleague, and at the moment held his peace in his wise way. It was true that Adams brought the casting vote, though Franklin of course might resist, and could make his resistance effectual by communicating to de Vergennes all which passed, and in so doing he would be backed by the authority and orders of Congress. But he determined not to pursue this course. When next they all met for conference he turned to Jay and said: "I am of your opinion, and will go on without consulting this court." This was all that passed when thus for a second time Franklin surrendered. Nothing indicates by what motives he was influenced. Some writers suggest that he had a lurking notion that Jay's views were not altogether ill founded; but later he declared the contrary.[84] Others fancy that he simply yielded to a majority vote. To me it seems more probable that, weighing comparative importance, he gave in to what he conceived to be the supreme necessity of advancing to a speedy conclusion; for, as has been said, he keenly appreciated that time was pressing. Parliament was to meet in a few weeks, on November 26, and it daily became more evident that if a treaty was to be made at all, it must be consummated before that date. Now, as in the question concerning the preliminary acknowledgment of independence, peace overruled all considerations of minor points.

If this was indeed his end, he achieved it, for negotiations were now zealously pushed. The important question of the western boundaries and the navigation of the Mississippi was the especial concern of Jay. Spain covertly wished to see the States worsted upon these demands, and confined between the Alleghanies and the sea; and the Bourbon family compact influenced France to concur with the Spanish plans. But in the secret treating Jay prevailed. The fisheries were the peculiar affair of Adams, as the representative of New England. France would fain have had the States shut out from them altogether; but Adams carried the day. Some concessions were made concerning the collection of debts owing in the States to Englishmen, and then there remained only the matter of indemnification to American royalists. Upon this the fight was waged with zeal by all; yet Franklin had the chief responsibility to bear. For there now arose to plague him that unfortunate proposition of his for the cession of Canada and the restoration of confiscated Tory property in the States. This encouraged the English and gave them a sort of argument. Moreover the indemnification was "uppermost in Lord Shelburne's mind," because, unlike other matters, it seemed a point of honor. With what face could the ministry meet Parliament with a treaty deserting all those who had been faithful to their king? It was indeed a delicate position, and the English were stubborn; but no less so was Franklin, upon the other side. With the great province of Canada as an offset, or quasi fund, the States might have assumed such an obligation, but without it, never. Further the American commissioners reiterated the explanation often given: that Congress had no power in the premises, for the matter lay within the sovereign jurisdiction of each State. This argument, however, really amounted to nothing; for if the fact was so, it behooved the States to give their agent, the Congress, any power that was necessary for making a fair treaty; and England was not to be a loser by reason of defects in the American governmental arrangements. For a while it really seemed that the negotiation would be wrecked upon this issue, so immovable was each side. As Vaughan wrote: "If England wanted to break, she could not wish for better ground on her side. You do not break, and therefore I conclude you both sincere. But in this way I see the treaty is likely of itself to break."

Franklin now ingeniously counteracted his earlier imprudence by reviving an old suggestion of his, that immense claims might be preferred against England on behalf of Americans whose property had been wantonly destroyed, especially by the burning and plundering of towns, and he actually presented an article providing for such compensation, and an elaborate written paper sustaining it.[85] At last the Englishmen sought final instructions from Lord Shelburne. He replied with spirit that it should be understood that England was not yet in a position to submit to "humiliation," least of all at the hands of Americans; but finally he so far yielded as to say that indemnification need not be absolutely an ultimatum. This settled the matter; the negotiators who could yield must yield, and they did so. A sort of compromise article was inserted: "that Congress should recommend to the state legislatures to restore the estates, rights, and properties of real British subjects." The American envoys knew that this was worthless, and the English negotiators certainly were not deceived. But the article sounded well, and gave at least a standing ground for the ministry to defend themselves.[86]

On November 30 the articles were at last signed, with the stipulation that they were for the present merely preliminary and provisional, and that they should be executed as a definitive treaty only simultaneously with the execution of a treaty of peace between France and England.

The business was finished none too soon. In order to cover it the meeting of Parliament had been postponed until December 5. The danger which had been escaped, and which would not have been escaped had Franklin had a less correct appreciation of relative values in the negotiation, at once became apparent. The howl of condemnation swelled loud in the House of Commons; it was felt that the ministry had made not a treaty but a "capitulation." The unfortunate Shelburne was driven out of power, pursued by an angry outcry from persons altogether incapable of appreciating the sound statesmanship and the wise forecast of the future advantage of England which he had shown in preferring to give the colonies a chance to become a great, English-speaking, English-sympathizing, commercial people, rather than to feed fat the aspirations of France and Spain. These proceedings would have been good evidence, had evidence been wanting, that the American commissioners had done a brilliant piece of work. De Vergennes also added his testimony, saying: "The English have bought the peace rather than made it."

If the original instructions given to Oswald are compared with the treaty it will be found that England had conceded much; on the other hand the Americans, with no ultimatum save independence, had gained in substance all that they had dared seriously to insist upon. One would think that Franklin, Jay, and Adams had fairly won warm gratitude at the hands of their countrymen. Posterity, at least since the publication of long suppressed private papers and archives has shown what powerful occult influences were at work to thwart them, regards their achievement with unlimited admiration. But at that time a different feeling prevailed.

No sooner were the preliminary or provisional articles signed than Franklin informed de Vergennes of the fact. That minister was much surprised. He had been quietly biding his time, expecting to be invoked when the English and the Americans should find themselves stopped by that deadlock which he had done his best to bring about by his secret intimations to England. He was now astonished to learn that England had not availed herself of his astute suggestions, but had given terms which the Americans had gladly accepted. The business was all done, and the clever diplomat had not had his chance. At first he said nothing, but for a few days pondered the matter. Then on December 15 he disburdened his mind in a very sharp letter to Franklin. "I am at a loss," he wrote, "to explain your conduct and that of your colleagues on this occasion. You have concluded your preliminary articles without any communication between us, although the instructions from Congress prescribe that nothing shall be done without the participation of the king. You are about to hold out a certain hope of peace to America, without even informing yourself of the state of the negotiation on our part. You are wise and discreet, sir; you perfectly understand what is due to propriety; you have all your life performed your duties; I pray you consider how you propose to fulfill those which are due to the king."

Franklin found himself in a painful position; for he could by no means deny that he had duties, or at least something very near akin to duties, to the king, imposed upon him by numerous and weighty obligations which at his request had been conferred upon him and accepted by him on behalf of the American people. The violation of the instructions of Congress gave to the secret treating too much the air of an insulting distrust, of the throwing over a friend when he had been sufficiently used; for whatever might be suspected, it could by no means be proved that de Vergennes was not still the sincere friend which he certainly long had been. This bore hard upon Franklin. The policy which in fact had been forced upon him against his will by his colleagues was now made a matter of personal reproach against him especially, because he was persistently regarded as the head and front of the commission; no European yet dreamed of considering any other American as of much consequence in any matter in which Franklin was concerned. During long years de Vergennes had been his constant and efficient adviser and assistant in many a day of trial and of stress, and Franklin believed him to be still an honest well-wisher to the States. Moreover it actually was only a very few weeks since Franklin had applied for and obtained a new loan at a time when the king was so pressed for his own needs that a lottery was projected, and bills drawn by his own officials were going to protest. All this made the secrecy which had been practiced seem almost like duplicity on Franklin's part, and he felt keenly the ill light in which he was placed. It is true that if he had known then all that we know now, his mind would have been at ease; but he did not know it, and he was seriously disturbed at the situation into which he had been brought.

But his usual skill did not desert him, and his reply was aptly framed and prompt. "Nothing," he said, "had been agreed in the preliminaries contrary to the interests of France; and no peace is to take place between us and England till you have concluded yours. Your observation is, however, apparently just that, in not consulting you before they were signed, we have been guilty of neglecting a point of biensÉance. But as this was not from want of respect for the king, whom we all love and honor, we hope it will be excused, and that the great work which has hitherto been so happily conducted, is so nearly brought to perfection, and is so glorious to his reign, will not be ruined by a single indiscretion of ours. And certainly the whole edifice sinks to the ground immediately if you refuse on that account to give us any further assistance.... It is not possible for any one to be more sensible than I am of what I and every American owe to the king for the many and great benefits and favors he has bestowed upon us.... The English, I just now learn, flatter themselves they have already divided us. I hope this little misunderstanding will, therefore, be kept a secret, and that they will find themselves totally mistaken."

This letter in a measure accomplished its soothing errand. Yet de Vergennes did not refrain from writing to de la Luzerne that "the reservation retained on our account does not save the infraction of the promise, which we have mutually made, not to sign except conjointly;" and he said that it would be "proper that the most influential members of Congress should be informed of the very irregular conduct of their commissioners in regard to us," though "not in the tone of complaint." "I accuse no person," he added, "not even Dr. Franklin. He has yielded too easily to the bias of his colleagues, who do not pretend to recognize the rules of courtesy in regard to us. All their attentions have been taken up by the English whom they have met in Paris."

So soon as the facts were known in the States expressions of condemnation were lavished upon the commissioners by members of Congress who thought that the secrecy as towards France was an inexcusable slight to a generous and faithful ally. Livingston, as secretary for foreign affairs, wrote to the envoys, commending the treaty, but finding fault with the manner of attaining it. Jay, angered at the injustice of a reproof which belonged more especially to him, drew up an exculpatory statement. But Franklin, showing his usual good sense and moderation, sought to mitigate Jay's indignation, drew all the sting out of the document, and insisted upon leaving the vindication to time and second thoughts. For his own part Franklin not only had to take his full share of the reproaches heaped upon the commissioners for insulting France, but upon the other hand he was violently assaulted on the quite opposite ground, that he had desired to be too subservient to that power. Many persons insisted that he "favored, or did not oppose," the designs of France to rule out the States from the fisheries, and to curtail their boundaries; and that it was only due to the "firmness, sagacity, and disinterestedness" of Jay and Adams that these mischiefs were escaped.

Such were the fault-findings and criminations to which the diplomatic complexities, which it was impossible then to unravel, gave rise. Fortunately they were soon rendered mere personal and abstract disputes, of little practical consequence, by the simultaneous execution of definitive treaties by France and the United States with Great Britain on September 3, 1783. Many efforts had been made to insert additional articles, especially as to commercial matters; but they were all abortive. The establishment of peace had exhausted the capacity of the States and England to agree together; and the pressure of war being removed, they at once fell into very inimical attitudes. So the definitive treaty was substantially identical with the provisional one.

Franklin, after a while, finding that these charges of his having preferred France to his own country were being reiterated with such innuendoes as to bring his integrity into serious question, felt it necessary to appeal to his colleagues for vindication. He wrote to them a modest, manly letter,[87] and in reply received from Jay a generous testimonial,[88] and from Adams a carefully narrow acquittal.[89] The subsequent publication of Franklin's papers written at, and long before, the time of the negotiation, shows that he was inclined to demand from Great Britain fully as much as any American upon either side of the ocean.

In taking leave of the subject it is interesting to know that in point of fact the secret action of the American commissioners was very nearly fraught with serious injury to France. For when the States were practically eliminated from active war by the signing of the provisional articles, five members of Shelburne's cabinet were in favor of breaking off negotiations with France, and continuing the contest with her.[90]

During the negotiation Franklin wrote to Laurens: "I have never yet known of a peace made that did not occasion a great deal of popular discontent, clamor, and censure on both sides, ... so that the blessing promised to peacemakers, I fancy, relates to the next world, for in this they seem to have a greater chance of being cursed." The prognostication was fulfilled. The act which gave peace to the warring nations brought anything but good will among the American negotiators. Jay was so just, conscientious, and irreproachable a gentleman in every respect that he escaped unvexed by any personal quarrel; moreover he was not so distinguished as to have become the victim of envy and jealousy. But the antipathy previously so unhappily existing between Franklin and Adams became greatly aggravated, and their respective advocates in historical literature have not to this day reached an accord. Adams was a relentless hater, and has bequeathed bitter diatribes, which, as they can never be obliterated, can never cease to excite the ire of the admirers of Franklin. On the other side, Franklin has at least the merit of having left not a malicious line behind him. I have no mind to endeavor to apportion merits and demerits between these two great foemen, able men and true patriots both, having no room for these personalities of history, which, though retaining that kind of interest always pertaining to a feud, are really very little profitable. Perhaps, after all, the discussion would prove to be not unlike the classic one which led two knights to fight about the golden-silver shield.

Yet one dispute, which has been long waged, no longer admits of doubt. The suspicions of the good faith of de Vergennes which Jay first entertained, which Adams adopted, and which Franklin rejected, were undoubtedly correct. As the years go by and collections of private papers and of hitherto suppressed public archives find their way to the light, the accumulated evidence to this effect has become overwhelming. Such being the case, it must be admitted that the vital merit in the conduct of this difficult negotiation rests with Jay; that Adams has the credit belonging to one who accepts a correct view when presented to him; and that Franklin did more wisely than he knew in twice assenting to a course which seemed to him based upon erroneous beliefs.

There is abundant evidence that from the very outset Franklin was not less resolute than was Adams about the fisheries; and that he was in perfect accord with Jay about the western boundaries and the Mississippi; though Adams and Jay did most of the talking concerning these subjects, respectively. When it came to the even more difficult matter of the royalists, Franklin in turn took the laboring oar. So far therefore as the three cardinal points of the negotiation were concerned honors were very evenly divided. But the value of Franklin's contribution to the treating is not to be measured either by his backwardness in supporting Jay in certain points, or by his firm attitude about boundaries, royalists, and fisheries. All these things he had outlined and arranged with Oswald at an early stage in the negotiating. Later he fell seriously ill and was for a long while in no fit condition for work. Yet the treaty seemed to be made under his auspices. In reading the great quantity of diaries and correspondence which relate to the transactions, many a passage indicates the sense of respect with which he was looked up to. The high opinion entertained of his ability, integrity, and fair-mindedness influenced very powerfully the minds of the English ministry and their envoys. "I am disposed," said Shelburne, "to expect everything from Dr. Franklin's comprehensive understanding and character." The like feeling, strengthened by personal confidence and regard, went far to keep de Vergennes from untimely intermeddling and from advancing embarrassing claims of supervision. Altogether, it was again the case that Franklin's prestige in Europe was invaluable to America, and it is certainly true that beneath its protection Jay and Adams were able to do their work to advantage. Had they stood alone they would have encountered difficulties which would have seriously curtailed their efforts.[91] It is truth and not theory that Franklin's mere name and presence were sufficient to balance the scale against the abilities and the zeal of both his coadjutors.

It seems hardly necessary to endeavor to palliate Franklin's error in failing to detect the duplicity of de Vergennes. On the contrary, it would give a less agreeable idea of him had he been ready to believe so ill of an old and tried friend. For years Franklin had been the medium through whom had passed countless benefits from France to the States, benefits of which many had been costly and inconvenient for the giver; he had been treated with high consideration at this court, when no other court in all Europe would even receive an American ambassador; he had enjoyed every possible token of esteem and confidence both personally and in his official capacity; he had ever found fair words backed by no less fair deeds. In short, the vast mass of visible evidence seemed to him to lie, and in fact did lie, all on one side. On September 13, 1781, writing to the president of Congress, he said that de Vergennes had just read to him a copy of the instructions prepared by Congress for the commissioners, and that the minister "expressed his satisfaction with the unreserved confidence placed in his court by the Congress, assuring me that they would never have cause to regret it, for that the king had the honor of the United States at heart, as well as their welfare and independence. Indeed, this has been already manifested in the negotiations relative to the plenipotentiaries; and I have already had so much experience of his majesty's goodness to us, in the aids afforded us from time to time, and by the sincerity of this upright and able minister, who never promised me anything that he did not punctually perform, that I cannot but think the confidence well and judiciously placed, and that it will have happy effects." Every event in the history of many years made it natural and right for Franklin to feel in this way; and it surely was no cause for distrust that de Vergennes had had the interest of France in mind as an original motive for aiding America, when throughout the war Franklin had witnessed France straining every nerve and taxing every resource to aid her ally, in perfect sincerity; and when also, upon the suggestion of negotiations, he had just seen de Vergennes adhere rigidly to his word to do no treating save collaterally with the Americans, and refuse to take advantage of Grenville's efforts to reach the Americans through the French minister. Even though de Vergennes had disapproved the delay caused by Jay's objection to the form of the commission, still he had honorably stayed his own negotiation until that matter was favorably settled. Early in the negotiations Grenville said to Franklin that the States owed no gratitude to France, since she had in fact only promoted her own interests. The remark excited Franklin's indignation, and he says: "I told him I was so strongly impressed with the kind assistance afforded us by France in our distress, and the generous and noble manner in which it was granted, without extracting or stipulating for a single privilege or particular advantage to herself in our commerce, or otherwise, that I could never suffer myself to think of such reasonings for lessening the obligation, and I hoped, and indeed did not doubt, but my countrymen were all of the same sentiments." The words do his heart none the less honor, because it has been since discovered that his confidence was too implicit. In truth de Vergennes had been extremely scrupulous and delicate throughout, in all matters which could fall within the observation of the Americans. At the outset he said to Franklin: the English "want to treat with us for you; but this the king will not agree to. He thinks it not consistent with the dignity of your state. You will treat for yourselves; and every one of the powers at war will make its own treaty. All that is necessary is that the treaties go hand in hand, and are all signed on the same day." Thus, to one who could believe de Vergennes, everything seemed fair and sincere, and Franklin at least had a right to believe de Vergennes.

Furthermore it was not until negotiations actually began that the previous condition of French relationship, as Franklin had well known it for many years, underwent a sudden and complete change. Then at last were presented new temptations before which friendship and good faith could not stand, and each nation, keeping a decorous exterior, anxiously studied its own advantage. It was the trying hour when the spoils were to be divided. The States themselves preferred the profit of their enemy England to that of their half-friend Spain. Franklin did not appreciate this quick turning of the kaleidoscope, with the instant change of all the previous political proximities; in view of his age, his infirmities, his recent experience in France, and his habitual generous faith in his fellow men, this failure should give rise neither to surprise nor censure.

In 1782, after signing the preliminary articles, Franklin a second time sent to Congress his resignation. He received no reply to this communication, and again, therefore, after the execution of the definitive treaty, he renewed his request to be relieved. But still Congress delayed. They wished to enter into commercial treaties with the European nations, and in spite of the rebukes which their chairman of the committee for foreign affairs had administered to Franklin, Jay, and Adams, they now showed no readiness to remove these gentlemen from the diplomatic service. Franklin accordingly remained in Paris, probably with no great reluctance, for he was attached to the place and the people, and his affection was warmly returned. It was a light labor to conduct the negotiations for the desired commercial treaties. Sweden, Denmark, Portugal, and even Morocco, all made advances to him almost immediately after the signing of the treaty of peace. For the most part he had the gratification of success. His last official act, just before his departure from Paris, was the signature of a treaty with Prussia, in which it was agreed to abolish privateering,[92] and to hold private property by land and sea secure from destruction in time of war. It was pleasant thus to be introducing his country to the handshaking, so to speak, of the old established nations of the world. So his life glided on agreeably. He was recognized as one of the most illustrious men living; and to enjoy such a reputation in Paris in those days, especially when it was supplemented by personal popularity, was to find one's self in the enjoyment of all which the world could bestow to make delightful days.

In August, 1784, Jefferson arrived to assist in the commercial business. But it was not until March, 1785, that Congress at last voted that Franklin might "return to America as soon as convenient," and that Jefferson should succeed him as minister at the French court. Jefferson has borne good testimony to Franklin's situation, as he observed it. A few years later, in February, 1791, he wrote: "I can only therefore testify in general that there appeared to me more respect and veneration attached to the character of Dr. Franklin in France, than to that of any other person in the same country, foreign or native. I had opportunities of knowing particularly how far these sentiments were felt by the foreign ambassadors and ministers at the court of Versailles.... I found the ministers of France equally impressed with the talents and integrity of Dr. Franklin. The Count de Vergennes particularly gave me repeated and unequivocal demonstrations of his entire confidence in him." When Jefferson was asked: "C'est vous, Monsieur, qui remplace le Docteur Franklin?" he used to reply: "No one can replace him, sir; I am only his successor;" and we may be sure that the Frenchmen appreciated and fully agreed with an expression of courtesy which chimed so well with their own customs of speech. Later, in 1818, Jefferson wrote an interesting letter concerning the calumnies from which Franklin's reputation still suffered:—

When at last, in the summer of 1785, Franklin took his farewell of the much-loved land of France, the distinguished attentions which he received left no doubt of the admiration in which he was held. Indeed, many persons pressed him to remain in France, and three offered him homes in their own families, telling him that not even in America could he expect esteem and love so unalloyed as he enjoyed in France, and warning him also that he might not survive the voyage. But he said: "The desire of spending the little remainder of life with my family is so strong as to determine me to try at least whether I can bear the motion of the ship. If not, I must get them to set me ashore somewhere in the Channel and content myself to die in Europe." When the day of departure from Passy came "it seemed," said Jefferson, "as if the village had lost its patriarch." His infirmities rendered the motion of a carriage painful to him, and the king therefore placed at his disposal one of the queen's litters, which bore him by easy stages to the seacoast. He carried with him the customary complimentary portrait of the king; but it was far beyond the ordinary magnificence, for it was framed in a double circle of four hundred and eight diamonds, and was of unusual cost and beauty. On July 18 he arrived at Havre, and crossed the Channel to take ship at Portsmouth. The British government offset the discourtesy with which it was irritating Mr. Adams by ordering that the effects of Dr. Franklin's party should be exempt from the usual examination at the custom house. His old friend, the Bishop of St. Asaph, "America's constant friend," came to see him. So also did his Tory son, the ex-governor of New Jersey, with whom a sort of reconciliation had been patched up. He sailed with Captain, afterward Commodore, Truxton, who found him a most agreeable companion.

Of all things in the world a sea voyage most induces to utter idleness, and it is a striking proof of the mental industry of this aged man that during the seven weeks of this summer passage across the Atlantic he wrote three essays, which remain among his best. But he never in his life found a few weeks in which his mind was relieved from enforced reflection upon affairs of business that he did not take his pen in hand for voluntary tasks. During the last eighteen months of his life in Paris all the social distractions incident to his distinguished position had not prevented his writing some of the best papers which he has bequeathed to literature.