Luke Lamanna (3:48)
From Ballin Studios and Wondery. I'm Luke Lamanna and this is Declassified Mysteries, where each week we shine a light on the shadowy corners of espionage, covert operations and misinformation to reveal the dark secrets our governments try to hide. This week's episode is called Ben Secret Spy. In 1776, America was still mostly just a dream, One in danger of dying before it came true. For nine months, the colonies had been waging a war against England for their independence. A war they were losing. The 30,000 man American army barely had clothes or shoes and they were running out of gunpowder. The Continental Congress kept this fact a secret from civilians, presumably to keep morale up. But the truth was, they were in dire need of help. Help that could only come from across the Atlantic. A year earlier, Congress had created the Committee of Secret Correspondence in hopes of reversing America's fortunes. The committee's goal was to gain the support of another European superpower with a centuries old grudge against Brit France. Venturing across the Atlantic to Paris to ask for that aid was a high risk confidential mission. Which is why the man Congress picked for the job, Benjamin Franklin, seemed to be a very unlikely choice. That's because the seven year old Franklin was an international celebrity. He was widely known as the Founding Father who invented the lightning rod and bifocals. He started a university and dazzled readers with his poor Richard's Almanac. Not the kind of man who'd go unnoticed. But Franklin was also a master at spycraft. One who used his brilliant mind to develop a network of operatives who'd help see this mission through. His fame was the perfect cover. He was beloved in Europe and had more influence with the elite than any other American diplomat. He'd be able to go straight to the top to seek military and financial support for the revolution, all in the guise of high society hobnobbing. But Franklin wasn't the only American agent in Paris hiding in plain sight. One of his trusted aides, Edward Bancroft, was actually a spy for the British. Though his espionage wouldn't be discovered for another hundred years. Bancroft's mission was to subvert Franklin at every turn in these key negotiations. And unless Franklin could overcome Bancroft's dirty work, the American dream could die. On the frigid night of December 3, 1776, Benjamin Franklin watched a fisherman plunge his oars into the choppy Atlantic waters. Franklin was in a small boat headed from his anchored ship to the coast of Brittany, France. He was desperate to get to dry land. Franklin had spent a month sailing to France from Philadelphia with his grandsons, 17 year old Temple and 7 year old Benny. It was a dangerous journey. If the British navy intercepted them, Franklin could have been hanged for his recent crime of signing the Declaration of Independence. Despite these risks, he chose to bring his young grandsons along. Their presence helped mask his true mission. Thankfully, nothing happened on the journey, but there were plenty of other annoyances. Franklin was sick of eating salted beef, he was covered in scabs from a psoriasis flare up, and he had spent four days waiting for the wind to die down so his ship could dock. Franklin couldn't stand being out at sea any longer, so he paid a handsome fee to a fisherman to row him and his grandsons to shore. Later that night, Franklin staggered into an inn and brought his grandsons to huddle by a fire. They were alone with no one there to greet or guide them, despite the fact that months ago, Franklin had sent a letter to an American agent in Paris to say that he was coming. Franklin assumed the letter was probably lost at sea, which was likely since the male was at the mercy of the tides. He gripped the fireplace mantle, feeling dizzy, trying not to keel over as he adjusted to being back on dry land. He needed a rest, but his mind was already whirring, figuring out his next move. Tomorrow he'd dash off a letter to an associate in Paris to let him know he'd made it. Then he'd hire a coach and make his way to Paris himself. He wanted to meet with the French foreign minister as soon as possible. Possible. Back home, troops were at their breaking point. General Washington's army was struggling to hold it together in the face of repeated British victories. If Franklin couldn't secure France's support to turn the tide, he was sure the outcome would be grim. The next day, Franklin and his grandson set out for Paris. First, they stopped in the city of Nantes, where their luggage was delivered. And there Franklin came up against the first challenge of his his fame. When locals heard he was in town, they threw a ball in his honor. To the cultural elite, Franklin was a superstar. By the time Franklin got to Paris in late December, he was inundated with party invitations and swarmed with visitors. Newspapers began to circulate rumors about why Franklin was In France. Some said he'd come to enroll his grandsons in French schools. Others said he'd come for his health. There was even a story that he'd had a falling out with Congress. Franklin never confirmed or denied the rumors. The false stories diverted attention away from his true purpose. As soon as he got to Paris, he connected with two American diplomats who were his contacts. Silas Deane and Arthur Lee. Deane had been in Paris for a while. He'd been sent before Franklin to quietly begin the process of securing French aid. Though he had secured some cash and weapons for the army, it wasn't nearly enough. Now Franklin was desperate to meet with France's foreign minister, the count of Vergennes. Vergennes had the power to lend the colonies an enormous amount of money and weapons and supplies. Franklin asked for a meeting, but the skittish Vergen had conditions that he insisted Franklin follow. He said England had eyes and ears everywhere, and the British ambassador in Paris closely tracked any French interactions with Americans. So any meeting they had would need to be in secret and off the record. Franklin followed the court's orders, even though it slowed everything down. Finally, in December, Franklin got a message the foreign minister was ready to meet. A few weeks later, a royal aide led three men down an empty hall at the palace of Versailles. The men's hats were slung low, and their collars were pulled up high to hide their faces. Once the aide let them into an office and shut the door, the men pulled their hats off. They were Ben Franklin and his associates, Arthur Lee and Silas Deane. Given the foreign minister's request, they'd come to Versailles in disguise. After a moment, the door opened again and the count of Vergennes walked in. Though he had a reputation for being dour and no nonsense, he still began by showering Franklin and his men with praise. He was very pro America, partly because he disliked Britain so much. However, when Franklin turned to the subject of military aid, Vergennes got cagey. He said he'd make sure the British could not close down the French ports, But he couldn't promise any other help. And when Silas Deane reminded the count of the 30,000 guns France had already sent to the colonies, Vergennes looked bewildered. He insisted he had no idea what Deane was talking about. Franklin paused. Then he nodded and said, deane must have been mistaken. Vergennes was lying, and Franklin understood why. America was in a precarious position, but France was, too. They were rebuilding their navy after a massive war with the British, who they had been battling on and off. For centuries. If France openly backed the Americans and signed a treaty of military alliance, it might provoke England into declaring war against France. So Franklin tried a different tactic. He proposed that America and France sign a simple commerce and trading agreement that would still have a powerful effect. By signing it, France would essentially be recognizing America as an independent nation rather than just a bunch of rebels. And that recognition would be almost as valuable as military aid because it would signal to the world that America had France's support. Brigand nodded. He told Franklin that if the Americans wrote up a proposal for this treaty, he'd ask the king to consider was a non committal answer and Franklin wanted more assurances. So he asked Vergennes if it would help if the Americans asked Spain to sign a similar treaty. France and Spain had a long time alliance. Franklin knew the French would be more likely to openly support America if Spain did too. Vergen said yes, that would be a very good idea. After telling Franklin to stay in touch, Vergennes left. Franklin and his men put on their hats and hurried out of Versailles before anyone else could spot them. For all the secrecy surrounding the meeting, Franklin hadn't come away with much. But he'd at least established a rapport with Vergennes and that was a good start. In the meantime, he had a lot to keep him busy. In addition to maintaining his cover as a social butterfly, he'd be working to help America on every front possible. He'd run strategy meetings, draft and send treaty proposals and secret messages back to Congress. He wrote petitions to free American prisoners of war from the English. And Franklin knew that his life was about to get even more hectic. He needed someone to keep him on track. A right hand man. Someone fluent in French but loyal to America and equally skilled at taking dictation or making small talk at a high society party. Franklin had just the man in mind. Six months later, in the summer of 1777, as the American war with Britain was still raging, Edward Bancroft sat hunched over a desk at an elegant Parisian estate called the Hotel de Valentinois. He was carefully writing a letter. The 33 year old had moved to Paris a few weeks before to become Franklin's full time secretary. The latest stop in a globe trotting life. He was born in Massachusetts, spent several years in South America and moved to London when he was 23. Bancroft lived there for a decade, working as a scientist, inventor and a writer, much like Ben Franklin, who had also resided in London at the same time. The two became friendly. So friendly that in the past, Franklin relied on Bancroft to gather intelligence on British politicians. Bancroft had also come to Paris the previous year to help Franklin's diplomatic associate, Silas Deane. Because he spoke French, he served as a translator and co negotiator in meetings with local officials. Now Bancroft spent long days at Franklin's side at the Valentinois, which a pro American nobleman had offered to Franklin as a residence. As Franklin's right hand, Bancroft drafted memos, made copies and translations, and took trips across Europe to gather intelligence. It was important work, but it was also grueling because the Americans were stuck. Franklin had been searching for allies who could contribute to their war chest. He thought he could get Spain on their side, but the Spanish were wary of allying with a country that wasn't independent yet. And though the French continued to secretly donate weapons and uniforms to the war effort, they still wouldn't publicly support the Americans. As Bancroft wrote, he heard a creak. His eyes shot to the door. His employer should have been out for the night, playing chess with the noblewoman next door, but maybe he'd come home early. Bancroft kept listening, and no one appeared. So he got back to his letter. He'd just finished writing a memo to Congress back in the colonies, updating them with news about France's latest donation to their army. Now he was writing a love letter to his wife. But the letter didn't mean a thing. It was just a cover. He glanced at the door again, then pulled a vial from his pocket. The vial was full of tannic acid, a substance which had another name. Invisible ink. He dipped a fresh quill into the acid and started writing between the lines of his letter. This love letter actually contained a hidden report to England's Secret service, telling them all about Franklin's negotiations and France's donations so far. The previous year, Bancroft had been recruited by an American friend in London who was already spying for the British. Bancroft's close ties to Franklin made him the ideal inside man. Despite his friendship with Franklin and his American roots, Bancroft had reasons for becoming a turncoat politically. He thought the colonies should reconcile with England. A war involving France would get in the way of that. So he couldn't let this alliance with France and Spain happen. But Bancroft had less noble reasons for working with America's enemy, too. He gambled on the stock market and often lost. Money was tight, but it wouldn't be anymore. Once the British started paying him the annual 500 pound pension he was promised. In today's dollars, it would amount to $100,000 a year, all for killing the American dream. So Bancroft kept writing, and once he was done. He signed off with the code name he'd been given by the British doctor Edward Edwards. Then he sealed it in an envelope and made his way out of the estate. Bancroft was set on getting the letter to a messenger that night. His note to Congress would take weeks to reach Philadelphia, but the secret letter to England would arrive in mere days, giving the British proof that France was secretly helping the colonies. If the British threatened France with a war, they'd likely cut ties with Franklin, and without French support, America wouldn't survive. Bancroft was changing the world one letter at a time. As long as he didn't get caught.
