The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [178]
“Well then, Mr. Lafayette, let us pray for the abilities and the wisdom of Dr. Franklin.”
28. FRANKLIN
DECEMBER 1777
THERE WAS A FLY IN THE OINTMENT, AND HIS NAME WAS KING Charles III. The Spanish monarch was the nephew of Louis XVI, and a man of fragile sensitivity about his place in the hierarchy of European politics. The question put to him by the French government, whether or not he would enter a war with the hated English, put Charles squarely on the spot. His response was more of a personal message to his uncle at Versailles. Charles understood that an alliance with France did not change his stature as the lesser power, that his uncle King Louis would likely reap the greater glory and the greater spoils of any victory over the English. Worse, the Spanish seemed to feel they had much more to lose if America gained her independence. Certainly the American people would continue to flex their muscles, would look toward Mexico, perhaps, or other Spanish territories that America would find desirable to add to her own lands. And Charles had little confidence that he could maintain control over the colonies of Central and South America, or his islands in the Caribbean against what might become the new fashion of the day, distant colonies rising against their oppressive monarchs. The arguments swirling around him in Madrid were too strong for him to take any risks beyond his own borders. It was a rare opportunity for Charles to have the last word with his uncle Louis. His response was no. The Spanish would not join any alliance with the Americans.
DECEMBER 31, 1777
Franklin received the word from Vergennes on the last day of the year, the final capstone to a miserable holiday.
He had left the other two envoys in his house, would not even discuss the matter, the words choked away by the heat of his anger. He had grabbed his coat, wrapped himself against the cold, moved out through the bleak and desolate gardens. He knew Temple was watching him from the window, the young man always concerned for him. Yes, I would be concerned as well. This old man cannot endure many more years like this one. Failure does not contribute to longevity.
Just before Christmas, the usual stiffness in his joints had erupted into an attack of gout, and the painful swelling in his feet and knees had threatened to keep him confined to a chair. He walked with a slow limp, tried to ignore the severe pain in his left foot, his severely swollen toe suffering the tightness of his shoes. But he would not stay indoors, could not face the pitiable Deane, who had reacted to the news by collapsing into tears. Lee was worse, suspicious still of anyone and any event that did not focus on him, and Franklin knew that in Lee’s mind the collapse of the French alliance would produce a conspiracy, that somehow Lee would conjure up demons that would convince him even Franklin was profiting from Spain’s refusal, some bribe perhaps, a bizarre exercise in fantasy from Lee’s illogical mind. No, Mr. Lee, sometimes events just . . . happen. There need not be any greater reason, any despicable plot, any intent by some force of evil to point its rotten finger directly at you. We are dealing, after all, with monarchs, men who control their own fate only if they control the fate of everyone around them. It is a challenge to even the most enlightened, and despite their greed for artwork and the splendor of their palaces, there is little to suggest enlightenment in the minds of these despots.
He had reached the edge of the property, stopped at a low stone wall. He felt his shoulders slump, thought, It is not necessary to be so angry at Arthur Lee. He is no more to blame than I am. Well, perhaps I am to blame, after all. I relied on faith that Vergennes is dedicated to an alliance. Despite Mr. Lee’s lack of trust, we agree on one thing. We had expectations of success, and we were handed failure.
He looked back at the main house, realized he had come too far. Now, you old fool, you must walk that far again. He flexed his foot, the pain shocking him, tearing up