Franklin by Davidson Butler

wear his fur hat, which caught the attention of the French, who saw it as proof Americans were simple and honest and did not bother with trivial matters, such as the latest fashion in hats. Franklin made a point of wearing plain brown or black suits and white shirts. One Frenchman vowed everything about him typified “simplicity and innocence.”
    Franklin was neither simple nor innocent, but he recognized the importance of swaying the French. With the help of Jacques Chaumont , a French businessman working with Silas Deane to supply the American army, Franklin had a painting of himself wearing his fur hat printed on plates, pitchers, and other crockery. These were produced in ovens at Chaumont’s estate. They sold briskly, and Franklin soon remarked his face was better known in France than the man in the moon.
    At the same time, Franklin coped with British attempts to wreck his mission. When an American woman in France warned him British spies were surrounding him, he replied that he had no doubt. In fact, he said, if he were sure his valet was a spy, “as probably he is, I think I should not discharge him for that, if in other respects I lik’d him.” Franklin saw it would be to his advantage if the British learned about French aid, for this information might make them angry enough to declare war on France. It did not matter how France became America’s ally. In fact, one of Franklin’s closest aides in Paris, Connecticut-born Edward Bancroft , was a double agent who received £600 a year from the British for reporting Franklin’s activities to King George.
    The sight of Franklin in Paris incensed the British. British Ambassador David Murray , Lord Stormont, protested to the French government. British newspapers were filled with stories claiming Franklin had fled to France to save his life, because the revolution was collapsing. In a letter to Polly Stevenson Hewson, still in England, Franklin wrote, “I must contrive to get you to America. I want all my friends out of that wicked country. I have just seen in the papers seven paragraphs about me, of which six were lies.”
    In March 1777, Franklin moved out of the Hotel de Hambourg and retreated to the village of Passy, a short drive from Paris on the road to Versailles, the palace of Louis XVI and the center of French government. He accepted the invitation of the Chaumonts to live rent-free on their estate.
    Franklin soon was asking the French Foreign Minister, Count Vergennes, to come to America’s aid with a formal alliance. But Vergennes was not sure the Americans could win the war. Washington had won small victories at Trenton and Princeton, but the latest word indicated the British were mustering their strength to deliver a knockout blow. One British army, commanded by General John Burgoyne , was set to invade the colonies from Canada, while the main army, based in New York, would attack Philadelphia. So Count Vergennes stalled, offering Franklin more secret aid, but declining to become a public ally.
    Franklin asked Vergennes if there was any objection to Captain Lambert Wickes cruising against British vessels and bringing his prizes into French ports. Vergennes reluctantly replied there was no objection if Wickes’ ship was “a vessel in distress.” As for prizes, that would depend on how loudly the British protested. Under Franklin’s orders, Captain Wickes in a matter of days picked off four British merchantmen. Next, he captured the Royal Mail packet to Lisbon, the H.M.S. Swallow. Then he opened his ballast tanks until enough water had been taken on to prove his “distress” and sailed his prizes back into Nantes.
    The British Ambassador Lord Stormont protested. Vergennes ordered Wickes and his prizes out of French waters within twenty-four hours. By this time, all prizes had been sold, taken offshore and hastily repainted, and their cargoes transferred to other ships. Meanwhile, Franklin sent