A Benjamin Franklin Reader (19 page)

Most of the voluntary associations that Franklin formed—a Junto, library, philosophical society, even fire squad—did not usurp the core functions of government. But in 1747, he proposed something that was, though he may not have quite realized it, far more radical: a military force that would be independent of Pennsylvania’s colonial government.

Franklin’s plan for a volunteer Pennsylvania militia arose because of the feckless response by the colony’s government to the ongoing threats from France and her Indian allies. The Assembly, dominated by pacifist Quakers, dithered and failed to authorize any defenses, and the Proprietors refused to submit their lands to any taxes for defense. So in November 1747, Franklin stepped into the breach by writing a vibrant pamphlet entitled “Plain Truth,” signed by “a Tradesman of Philadelphia.” It includes a warning that sounds like a Puritan terror sermon, and it climaxes with his memorable rallying cry to his fellow middle class, “the middling people, he farmers, shopkeepers and tradesmen of this city and country.”

The result was the formation of a private militia. Thomas Penn, the colony’s proprietor, was appalled. “This association is founded on a contempt to government,” he wrote, “a part little less than treason.” In a subsequent letter, he called Franklin “a sort of tribune of the people” and “a dangerous man.”

By the summer of 1748, the threat of war passed and the Militia Association disbanded, without any attempt by Franklin to capitalize on his new power and popularity. But the lessons he learned stayed with him. He realized that the colonists might have to fend for themselves instead of relying on their British governors, that the powerful elites deserved no deference, and that “we the middling people” should be the proud sinews of the new land. It also reinforced his belief that people, and perhaps someday colonies, could accomplish more when they joined together rather than remained “separate filaments of flax,” when they formed unions rather than stood alone.

P
HILADELPHIA
, 1747

It is said the wise Italians make this proverbial remark on our nation, viz.
The English
feel,
but they do not
see. That is, they are sensible of inconveniencies when they are present, but do not take sufficient care to prevent them: their natural courage makes them too little apprehensive of danger, so that they are often surprised by it, unprovided of the proper means of security. When ’tis too late they are sensible of their imprudence: after great fires, they provide buckets and engines: after a pestilence they think of keeping clean their streets and common shores: and when a town has been sacked by their enemies, they provide for its defense, &c. This kind of after-wisdom is indeed so common with us, as to occasion the vulgar, though very significant saying,
when the steed is stolen, you shut the stable door.

But the more insensible we generally are of public danger, and indifferent when warned of it, so much the more freely, openly, and earnestly, ought such as apprehend it, to speak their sentiments; that if possible, those who seem to sleep, may be awakened, to think of some means of avoiding or preventing the mischief before it be too late.

Believing therefore that ’tis my duty, I shall honestly speak my mind in the following paper…

You have, my dear countrymen, and fellow citizens, riches to tempt a considerable force to unite and attack you, but are under no ties or engagements to unite for your defense. Hence, on the first alarm,
terror
will spread over all; and as no man can with certainty depend that another will stand by him, beyond doubt very many will seek safety by a speedy flight. Those that are reputed rich, will flee, thro fear of torture, to make them produce more than they are able. The man that has a wife and children, will find them hanging on his neck, beseeching him with tears to quit the city, and save his life, to guide and protect them in that time of general desolation and ruin. All will run into confusion, amidst cries and lamentations, and the hurry and disorder of departers, carrying away their effects. The few that remain will be unable to resist.
Sacking
the city will be the first, and
burning
it, in all probability, the last act of the enemy. This, I believe, will be the case, if you have timely notice. But what must be your condition, if suddenly surprised, without previous alarm, perhaps in the night! Confined to your houses, you will have nothing to trust to but the enemy’s mercy. Your best fortune will be, to fall under the power of commanders of kings’ ships, able to control the mariners; and not into the hands of
licentious privateers.
Who can, without the utmost horror, conceive the miseries of the latter! When your persons, fortunes, wives and daughters, shall be subject to the wanton and unbridled rage, rapine and lust, of
Negroes, mulattoes,
and others, the vilest and most abandoned of mankind. A dreadful scene! Which some may represent as exaggerated. I think it my duty to warn you: judge for yourselves.

’Tis true, with very little notice, the rich may shift for themselves. The means of speedy flight are ready in their hands; and with some previous care to lodge money and effects in distant and secure places, though they should lose much, yet enough may be left them, and to spare. But most unhappily circumstanced indeed are we, the middling people, the tradesmen, shopkeepers, and farmers of this province and city! We cannot all fly with our families; and if we could, how shall we subsist? No; we and they, and what little we have gained by hard labor and industry, must bear the brunt: the weight of contributions, extorted by the enemy (as it is of taxes among ourselves) must be surely borne by us. Nor can it be avoided as we stand at present; for though we are numerous, we are quite defenseless, having neither forts, arms, union, nor discipline. And though it were true, that our trade might be protected at no great expense, and our country and our city easily defended, if proper measures were but taken; yet who shall take these measures? Who shall pay that expense? On whom may we fix our eyes with the least expectation that they will do any one thing for our security?

Should we address that wealthy and powerful body of people, who have ever since the war governed our elections, and filled almost every seat in our assembly; should we entreat them to consider, if not as friends, at least as legislators, that
protection
is as truly due from the government to the people, as
obedience
from the people to the government; and that if on account of their religious scruples, they themselves could do no act for our defense, yet they might retire, relinquish their power for a season, quit the helm to freer hands during the present tempest, to hands chosen by their own interest too, whose prudence and moderation, with regard to them, they might safely confide in; secure, from their own native strength, of resuming again their present stations, whenever it shall please them: should we remind them, that the public money, raised
from all,
belongs
to all;
that since they have, for their own ease, and to secure themselves in the quiet enjoyment of their religious principles (and may they long enjoy them) expended such large sums to oppose petitions, and engage favorable representations of their conduct, if they themselves could by no means be free to appropriate any part of the public money for our defense…Our late governor did for years solicit, request, and even threaten them in vain. The council have since twice remonstrated to them in vain. Their religious prepossessions are unchangeable, their obstinacy invincible. Is there then the least hope remaining, that from that quarter any thing should arise for our security?

And is our prospect better, if we turn our eyes to the strength of the
opposite party,
those great and rich men, merchants and others, who are ever railing at Quakers for doing what their principles seem to require, and what in charity we ought to believe they think their duty, but take no one step themselves for the public safety? They have so much wealth and influence, if they would use it, that they might easily, by their endeavors and example, raise a military spirit among us, make us fond, studious of, and expert in martial discipline, and effect every thing that is necessary, under god, for our protection. But envy seems to have taken possession of their hearts, and to have eaten out and destroyed every generous, noble, public spirited sentiment.
Rage
at the disappointment of their little schemes for power, gnaws their souls, and fills them with such cordial hatred to their opponents, that every proposal, by the execution of which
those
may receive benefit as well as themselves, is rejected with indignation.
What,
say they,
shall we lay out our money to protect the trade of Quakers? Shall we fight to defend Quakers? No; let the trade perish, and the city burn; let what will happen, we shall never lift a finger to prevent it.
Yet the Quakers have
conscience
to plead for their resolution not to fight, which these gentlemen have not:
conscience
with you, gentlemen, is on the other side of the question:
conscience
enjoins it as a duty on you (and indeed I think it such on every man) to defend your country, your friends, your aged parents, your wives, and helpless children: and yet you resolve not to perform this duty, but act
contrary
to
your own
consciences, because the Quakers act
according
to
theirs.
Till of late I could scarce believe the story of him who refused to pump in a sinking ship, because one on board, whom he hated, would be saved by it as well as himself. But such, it seems, is the unhappiness of human nature, that our passions, when violent, often are too hard for the united force of
reason, duty
and
religion.

Thus unfortunately are we circumstanced at this time, my dear countrymen and fellow-citizens; we, I mean, the middling people, the farmers, shopkeepers and tradesmen of this city and country. Thro the dissensions of our leaders, thro
mistaken principles
of
religion,
joined with a love of worldly power, on the one hand; thro
pride, envy
and
implacable resentment
on the other; our lives, our families and little fortunes, dear to us as any great man’s can be to him, are to remain continually exposed to destruction, from an enterprising, cruel, now well-informed, and by success encouraged enemy. It seems as if heaven, justly displeased at our growing wickedness, and determined to punish this once favored land, had suffered our chiefs to engage in these foolish and mischievous contentions, for
little posts
and
paltry distinctions,
that our hands might be bound up, our understandings darkened and misled, and every means of our security neglected. It seems as if our greatest men, our
cives nobilissimi
of both parties, had
sworn the ruin of the country, and invited the French, our most inveterate enemy, to destroy it.
Where then shall we seek for succor and protection? The government we are immediately under denies it to us; and if the enemy comes, we are
far from
Zion,
and there is no deliverer near.
Our case indeed is dangerously bad; but perhaps there is yet a remedy, if we have but the prudence and the spirit to apply it…

If this now flourishing city, and greatly improving colony, is destroyed and ruined, it will not be for want of numbers of inhabitants able to bear arms in its defense. ’Tis computed that we have at least (exclusive of the Quakers) 60,000 fighting men, acquainted with firearms, many of them hunters and marksmen, hardy and bold. All we want is order, discipline, and a few cannon. At present we are like the separate filaments of flax before the thread is formed, without strength because without connection; but union would make us strong and even formidable: though the
great
should neither help nor join us; though they should even oppose our uniting from some mean views of their own, yet, if we resolve upon it, and it please God to inspire us with the necessary prudence and vigor, it
may
be effected…

The very fame of our strength and readiness would be a means of discouraging our enemies; for ’tis a wise and true saying, that
one sword often keeps another in the scabbard.

The way to secure peace is to be prepared for war. They that are on their guard, and appear ready to receive their adversaries, are in much less danger of being attacked, than the supine, secure and negligent. We have yet a winter before us, which may afford a good and almost sufficient opportunity for this, if we seize and improve it with a becoming vigor. And if the hints contained in this paper are so happy as to meet with a suitable disposition of mind in his countrymen and fellow citizens, the writer of it will, in a few days, lay before them a form of an association for the purposes herein mentioned, together with a practicable scheme for raising the money necessary for the defense of our trade, city, and country, without laying a burthen on any man.