Here's Where It Gets Interesting - Ben Franklin: Beyond the Squeaky Clean Reputation

Episode Date: August 10, 2022

Today, on Here's Where It Gets Interesting, Sharon talks about one of the most famous American historical figures: Benjamin Franklin. The history books are not wrong about the incredible accomplishments Benjamin Franklin made during his lifetime. He was a man with an unparalleled mind and an electric personality. He was a champion of charitable causes and really good at making strategic political connections. But he was also a man who undervalued his family and made some questionable personal life choices. Listen in to find out more. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hello, friends. Welcome. Welcome to another episode of Sharon Says So. And the last time we talked about the travels of First Lady Abigail Adams today, I want to dive into some of the lesser known stories about a man she was well acquainted with, a man who enjoyed widespread popularity both in tavern bars in colonial America and in the royal courts of Europe. In short, he was a public figure with an electric personality. Any guesses who it could be? Stay tuned, because here's where it gets interesting. I'm Sharon McMahon, and welcome to the Sharon Says So podcast. In 1776, 70-year-old Benjamin Franklin sailed to France. He was on an official mission sent

by the Continental Congress to secure a crucial wartime military alliance. He had spent 50 years in service to the public, beginning in the 1720s. When he was freshly 21 and back from learning the printing trade in London, he founded a culture club. And this culture club was spelled J-U-N-T-O. Whether that was pronounced Yun-to or Hun-to, people are not entirely certain. But if you're an office fan, think about the Yun-to as a finer things club with more tankards of ale and zero women. The goal of the men in the club was to improve themselves and in the process, improve the community. The 12 original members of this club, which was also sometimes called the Leather Apron Club because its members were craftsmen. They were cabinet makers, bartenders, printers, and clerks. All of the members were hardy readers. But books were both rare and also expensive, so the members pooled their personal collections and created a club library. Shortly after, Franklin proposed the idea of a subscription library.

Members would pay a regular fee, and the funds would be used to buy new books to add to the club's collection. Y'all know that I love a good subscription box. The book collaboration expanded and became the beginning of the Library Company of Philadelphia. Franklin wrote the charter in 1731, and by 1732, he hired the first American librarian, Louis Timothy, as more and more people purchased subscriptions. And the library company has since expanded into a research library. The club made other community improvements too, like setting up volunteer firefighting organizations and hiring night watchmen to improve neighborhood security and fundraising for a public hospital.

And Benjamin Franklin, he'd only just begun. Over the next several decades, Franklin would grow into the author, inventor, businessman, philanthropist, founding father, and diplomat that we learn about in our history classes. He gained notoriety everywhere that he went, and he enjoyed widespread fame in his own time. In short, he had achieved celebrity status, which was no small feat for somebody without a PR team or an active social media presence. So when Franklin arrived in Paris in December of 1776, it was this rock star reputation that preceded him. The French were impressed by his experiments with electricity and his other scientific inventions, and they were eager to meet him. He did not have a great command of the French language, and he regularly stumbled over

his pronunciations, but was complimented anyway on his amazing French. The French found his humble nature and his plain clothing charming, and they welcomed him with open arms. They circulated sketches of Franklin wearing a fur cap through high society, giggling about his lack of wig. His image was everywhere in France. It was seen in paintings, engravings, medallions, rings, snuff boxes, and hats. And when John Adams arrived in 1778 as a fellow ambassador, Franklin invited him to a whole array of dinners and social events with the who's who of France, the rich and famous influencers of the time. But John Adams was sour. He complained that Franklin was not doing his job as ambassador and wrote in his diary, these incessant dinners and dissipations were not the object of my mission to France.

In other words, John Adams was not there to have a good time. And Ben Franklin was. But what Adams failed to understand about these parties was that French society combined politics with pleasure in a way that colonial America did not. When Ben Franklin mingled over drinks and flirted with the wealthy wives' benefactors, he was cultivating an important relationship with the powerful people of France. During the Revolutionary War, France regularly provided the brand new United States with naval support and uniforms, troops, ammunitions, weapons. And there's no doubt that Franklin's ambassadorship and ability to maintain

these good relationships with the right people contributed to that alliance. these good relationships with the right people contributed to that alliance. When Franklin returned to Philadelphia in 1785, he did so with an unexplained shortage of 100,000 pounds in congressional funds. 100,000 pounds was not accounted for. If you account for inflation today, that price is well into the millions of dollars. He definitely did some damage in France. And when a member of Congress questioned him about the missing money, Ben Franklin quoted the Bible. He said, the Bible. He said, muzzle not the ox that treadeth out his master's grain. And Congress never mentioned the missing money again. But what about all of the harmless flirting Ben Franklin did while he was in France? Was it actually harmless? Because lurking beneath the surface of his super famous public image was a man who had spent his whole life pursuing women. When he wrote his autobiography, Franklin confessed that he knew

his philandering ways got him into trouble, saying, the hard-to-be-governed passion of my youth had me frequently into intrigues with low women that fell in my way. In other words, Ben Franklin was not a very discriminating young man. It started when he was a teenager. When Franklin went to London in 1724, when he worked as a typesetter there, he traveled with a friend who was a poet named James Ralph. The two had a falling out after Franklin made a pass at Ralph's mistress. Okay, so the poet had a mistress and Franklin went after the poet's mistress. And Ralph was furious at Franklin's audacity, and he ended the friendship, stopped speaking to him, and he refused to pay Franklin the 27 pounds that he owed him. Before he had left for London,

17-year-old Ben Franklin had proposed to a young girl who was then 15. Her name was Deborah Reed. Franklin was a boarder in her mother's home, and at the time, Deborah's mother was not very keen on allowing Deborah to marry Ben Franklin. She knew he was leaving for Europe soon, and she also knew he was young and financially unstable. Her own husband had recently died, so it was Deborah's mother who declined Franklin's request to marry Deborah. declined Franklin's request to marry Deborah. Franklin was in London for two years, during which time Deborah married another man. His name was John Rogers. If Deborah's mother thought Ben Franklin was a bad choice, John was much worse. John Rogers had a ton of secret debt, and almost immediately after he married Deborah, he took her dowry, spent it all, and went on the lam sailing off to Barbados. He left

Deborah behind, by the way. We don't know, actually, what happened to John Rogers after that, but we do know that it left Deborah in a pickle. She had an unreachable husband, who many people speculated was dead, and under the laws at the time, she was not free to remarry without producing his death certificate. When Ben Franklin returned to Philadelphia, he looked Deborah up and they quickly realized they could help each other out. They moved into a house on Market Street together and settled into a common law marriage, meaning they never purchased a legal marriage license. They just lived together as if they were married. That way, if John Rogers came back, Deborah couldn't be charged with bigamy, which would have given her a life sentence in jail.

And in turn, Benjamin Franklin wouldn't be liable for any of John Rogers's debts. I'm Jenna Fisher. And I'm Angela Kinsey. We are best friends. And together we have the podcast Office Ladies, where we rewatched every single episode of The Office with insane behind-the-scenes stories, hilarious guests, and lots of laughs. Guess who's sitting next to me? Steve! It is my girl in the studio! Every Wednesday, we'll be sharing even more exclusive stories from The Office and our friendship with brand new guests. And we'll be digging into our mailbag to answer your questions and comments.

So join us for brand new Office Ladies 6.0 episodes every Wednesday. Plus, on Mondays, we are taking a second drink. You can revisit all the Office Ladies rewatch episodes every Monday with new bonus tidbits before every episode. Well, we can't wait to see you there. Follow and listen to Office Ladies on the free Odyssey app and wherever you get your podcasts. Historians believe that Ben Franklin may have fathered

several illegitimate children through his lifetime. But we can't say who or how many for sure. But one child is well accounted for. His name was William Franklin, and he was born on February 22, 1730. But his mother's identity has never been known. Some historians believe she was a woman named Barbara, who was then a hired maid where Franklin was living at the time. Others think it was a woman he paid to have relations with. We don't actually know for sure, and we also don't know what happened to her, or if she was even given a choice about what happened to her son after she gave birth to him.

But Franklin publicly recognized his illegitimate son and needed someone to care for him. Deborah accepted the baby boy when they moved in together during William's infancy. She raised him as her stepson alongside her own children. Under Deborah's care and Benjamin's direction, William grew up to be a political figure in his own right, eventually becoming the governor of New Jersey. He was well cared for in the Franklin home. He was given a good education in Philadelphia. He studied law in London in the early 1760s. William Franklin himself fathered an illegitimate son who he named William Temple Franklin. And coincidentally, William Temple was born on the same day and month as his father exactly 30 years

later. William never named his son's mother and placed the boy in foster care during his childhood. When William Temple grew up, he lived with his father and stepmother, Mary, for a time. He also continued the familial trend, and like his grandfather, Benjamin Franklin, and his father, William, he had a daughter with a woman he did not marry. It was William and Mary who cared for the baby, Ellen. And when William died, he left most of his small estate to her. Interestingly enough, William Franklin was not a patriot he actually was loyal to the British crown and so after the Declaration of Independence was signed and moving into the Revolutionary War

he was arrested in fact for a period of time he was kept in prison in solitary confinement because because of his role in assisting the British. And Benjamin Franklin famously did little to assist his son who was imprisoned. After the Battle of Yorktown, which the United States essentially won the Revolutionary War, William Franklin was exiled and departed for Britain, never to return. Once he was in London, he became a leading spokesperson for the loyalist community. Benjamin Franklin dedicated his autobiography, which was written way before the Revolutionary War, to his son. Benjamin and Deborah went on to have two children of their own, a son named Francis, who died from smallpox when he was five, and a daughter named Sally. Franklin had several affairs throughout his 44 years of marriage with Deborah. Some historians believe that their marriage, while certainly convenient for both of them, never grew into more tender feelings. There was mutual respect,

but Benjamin Franklin and Deborah never wrote love letters or exchanged lines of affection in their correspondence the way that John and Abigail Adams did. And for almost half of their marriage, about 18 years, Ben and Deborah lived apart while he lived in London as an agent for the colonies in the decades leading up to the Revolutionary War. And Deborah did not like the idea of crossing the ocean on a boat and preferred to stay in Philadelphia. One of the most quoted Benjamin Franklin saying is, it takes many good deeds to build a good reputation and only one bad one to lose it. And while he lived in London, he flirted with squandering his good reputation regularly. In 1757, Franklin moved into an apartment in a London building that

was owned by a widow named Margaret Stevenson. Some historians think that Margaret and Franklin may have had an affair over the 15 years he lived under her roof. And though the affair may have been more of a platonic or an emotional relationship, the two were often seen in public together, comfortable enough in each other's company, but not passionate enough to excite the London rumor mill. Most people accepted their camaraderie, and it fell short of a scandal. fell short of a scandal. There may have been even more speculation that Benjamin Franklin tried to spark up a romance with Margaret's young daughter, Polly. She was 18, and by that time, Franklin was in his 50s. Polly is said to have been intelligent and inquisitive, and Franklin took an immediate

liking to her, engaging her in lively conversations about science and nature, and Polly enjoyed Franklin's company and welcomed his attention. The famous painter Charles Wilson Peale once arrived at Margaret's flat unannounced one afternoon. And while he waited for an audience at the house, he drew a pencil sketch through an open doorway of what he saw. And the sketch is of a young woman sitting on Franklin's lap, with Franklin and the girl locked in a kiss. It's generally assumed that this unnamed girl is Polly. They continued a lifelong attachment to one another, writing almost 200 letters back and forth and filling

them with topics that ranged from religion and science to humor and personal affection. And when Franklin was not far from death many years later in 1790, Polly crossed the Atlantic to be by his bedside. Polly did marry the British anatomist William Hewson during Franklin's long tenure in London, but he died young from sepsis when she was pregnant with her third child, and she never remarried. During his many years in London, but he died young from sepsis when she was pregnant with her third child, and she never remarried. During his many years in London, Franklin traveled home infrequently. He sent letters to Deborah telling her he'd be home in a few months, but those months stretched into a year, and soon it was over five years before he returned to Philadelphia. The rumor mill in both cities had begun to pick up, and Deborah had heard that he was enjoying the company of many other women while he lived there. Franklin denied it, writing

that he would do nothing unworthy of the character of an honest man and one that loves his family. But his visits home grew even more rare, and he often wrote Deborah, who pressed him to return, reassuring her that he planned to set sail soon, but then he often canceled at the last minute. He wrote her vague promises, like this one in July of 1771, which said, I propose it be firmly after one more winter here. And in the spring, he found a reason to stay. And this pattern repeated for years. Deborah had a stroke in 1769, and her health took a sharp decline. She grew tired of asking Franklin to come back and gave up, sharp decline. She grew tired of asking Franklin to come back and gave up,

though he still made vague promises to return. In the end, Deborah Franklin suffered a second stroke on December 14, 1774, and died five days later while Ben was still in London. while Ben was still in London. He finally booked passage back to Philadelphia in March of 1775, three months after his wife's death, though his return may have had more to do with the imminence of the coming war than to grieve for his late wife. If Franklin was a known womanizer while Deborah was alive, he doubled down after her death. During his stay in France in his 70s, when he was schmoozing at Parisian parties, there were numerous rumors of his pursuit of women. One of his favorites was a woman who was 33 and married to his neighbor. She was an accomplished pianist and renowned in Paris for her harpsichord playing. Once when he took a short trip, Franklin wrote

to her saying, I often pass your house. It appears desolate to me. I broke the commandments by coveting it along with the wife of my neighbor. Now I do not covet it anymore, so I am a bit less sinful. But as regards my neighbor's wife, I find the commandments very inconvenient, and I am sorry they were made. She returned his banter, calling him pet names and often sitting in his lap and giving him coy kisses. But there's no evidence that their relationship progressed beyond affectionate flirting. Besides, he was already ready to move on to his next mademoiselle. The next woman was older than many of his other documented ladies. She was 60 when they met, but said to have

been one of the most beautiful women in France. She was a widow, and Franklin seemed smitten. Once, when Franklin invited John and Abigail Adams to dine with him and his new amour, and his new amour. Abigail was aghast at the public display of familiarity between them. Franklin eventually proposed to her, but she turned him down by telling him she was honoring her late husband by never marrying again. And Franklin's complicated relationship with women extended to the one he had with his daughter, Sally. Sally was a teenager by the time Franklin left for London in 1757, and he left her upbringing and education to Deborah. He seemed to have very little interest in her. When Franklin wrote his autobiography, he painted a picture of himself as a strong family patriarch, but he did not mention his daughter at all. When the Revolutionary War ended, Franklin moved in with Sally and her

husband and their children. He was very fond of his young grandson and decided to take the 16-year-old back to Europe with him when he traveled to Paris in 1776. But Sally did not like this plan and protested to her father. He was dead set on it, and Sally could not stop him. And by the way, when his grandson, who was also named Benjamin, was with his grandfather in France, the two regularly practiced a pastime that was very unusual for the era, swimming. His grandson's journals tell of their escapades swimming, and you know how they swam? Naked, no swim trunks, no bathing costume, and had long been outspoken about the benefits of swimming. He considered it an ideal exercise for physical and mental fortitude. He hyped it up so much during his lifetime that in 1968,

he was posthumously honored by the International Swimming Hall of Fame for his contributions to the sport, including his early invention of swimming fins. Benjamin Franklin invented a lot of interesting stuff, by the way. Swimming fins is but one of them. Franklin wrote in 1773, when I was a youth, I made two oval pallets, each about 10 inches long and six broad with a hole for the thumb in order to retain it fast in the palm of my hand. They much resembled a painter's palette. In swimming, I pushed the edges of these forward and I struck the water with their flat surfaces as I drew them back. I remember I swam faster by means of these pallets. Think about it almost like a ping pong paddle, a little bit bigger with a hole in it for his thumb.

And he used these to help him swim faster. When Benjamin Franklin died in 1790, he left most of his estate to his daughter, Sally, and her husband. And one of the items he bequeathed to her was a small portrait of Louis XVI that was surrounded by a frame of diamonds. Sally sold it to finance a trip to London, which maybe speaks to her heart's desire. Growing up, she had no say in her lot to stay firmly rooted in Philadelphia with her mother while her father lived across the ocean. It seems kind of poetic of her to visit the city on her own terms after the death of both of

her parents. William Franklin sent a letter to his dad in 1784 in an attempt at reconciliation. 1784 in an attempt at reconciliation. Benjamin Franklin never accepted his position, but he did respond in a letter a few weeks later that said, we will endeavor as you propose mutually to forget what has happened relating to it as well as we can. William saw his father one last time in 1785 when Ben Franklin stopped in Britain on his return to the United States after having lived in France. Their meeting was reportedly very short and was really just about tying up some legal loose ends. In an attempt at reconciling, Ben proposed that his son give land that he owned in New York and New Jersey to his son, William Temple, who had served as Ben Franklin's secretary during the war and for whom Benjamin Franklin had great affection. After Benjamin Franklin died, he left William virtually none of his wealth except some nearly

worthless territory in Nova Scotia, Canada, and some things that William already had in his possession. And he famously said that if Britain had won the war, he would have had no wealth to leave his son, meaning that William had always been on Britain's side during America's quest for independence. And had William been right, Ben Franklin would not have been a wealthy man. so he was leaving his son next to nothing. The history books are not wrong about the incredible accomplishments Ben Franklin made during his lifetime. But two things can be true at the same time, right? Maybe he was a man with an unparalleled mind and a drive to better the world around him. He was a

champion of charitable causes and really good at making strategic political connections. But he was also a man who undervalued his family and made some questionable personal life choices. So I hope you learned something new today, a tidbit you didn't know before, and I'll see you soon. Thank you so much for listening to the Sharon Says So podcast. I am truly grateful for you. And I'm wondering if you could do me a quick favor. Would you be willing to follow or subscribe to this podcast or maybe leave me a rating or a review? Or if you're feeling extra generous, would you share this episode on your Instagram stories or with a friend? All of those things help podcasters out so much. This podcast was written and researched by Sharon McMahon and Heather Jackson.

It was produced by Heather Jackson, edited and mixed by our audio producer, Jenny Snyder, and hosted by me, Sharon McMahon. I'll see you next time.