Wednesday, August 31, 2022

David Salisbury Franks, Philadelphia, Philadelphia County

August has come to an end very quickly. It always does, and I don't know why. Tomorrow I'll be sending out the September newsletter, in which I recap the events of this very topsy-turvy month. (If you don't already receive it, why not subscribe using the form on the right side of the page? It's free and I never ask for a loan. Heck, I don't even ask people to join my Patreon, because I don't have one.) September is my birthday month, and this year I'll be celebrating a little harder than usual - my friend Rachel, who has in the past contributed images and knowledge to some of the Bethlehem posts on this blog, is coming to spend my birthday week with us and we have all sorts of adventures planned. So I'll be scuttling to get next week's post ready ahead of time.

To close out August, let's travel back to Revolution-era Philadelphia, and learn about a man who was wrongfully accused of helping to betray the infant United States.

The marker stands at the intersection
of Fifth and Arch Streets
David Salisbury Franks was a native of Philadelphia. His exact date of birth is unknown but he's believed to have been born in 1740. Sometime during his youth, his family relocated to Canada, and they were living in Montreal when the American Revolution began. Although he was a Jew of German descent, David was serving as president, or parnas, of the Shearith Israel congregation, which was the Spanish and Portuguese synagogue of the city. 

Exactly how David got involved with the revolution is a little murky. Sources disagree just slightly on the specifics, but either he himself spoke out against King George III or he defended someone else for doing so. Either way he ended up in jail for a few days. When American forces pushed into Montreal, he contributed money to the cause and decided to join up himself. He accepted a position as paymaster to the garrison of Montreal, and then became a volunteer soldier when the troops withdrew, later joining a Massachusetts regiment. In 1778 he was assigned to serve under Comte (Count) d'Estaing, who was then the commander of the Continental Navy, in part because David spoke and understood French and could act as a translator for the French officer. From there, he went back to his native Philadelphia.

In Philadelphia he was assigned to serve as aide-de-camp of Benedict Arnold.

If you know anything about the American Revolution, you probably recognize that name. But for a brief primer, Benedict Arnold was a decorated hero, having previously served in the French and Indian War and commanded the forces at Fort Ticonderoga. He rose to the rank of Major General in the Continental Army, at which point he had the full confidence of General George Washington and was placed in command of West Point. It was there that, in 1780, he fully intended to surrender the fort to British forces. The reason for his defection is believed to be largely due to the influence of his wife, Peggy Shippen, who came from a Loyalist family and facilitated his communications with the British officer John André, and also because the British had promised him 20,000 pounds if they were able to successfully take West Point. (That would be just shy of four million pounds in today's money.)

The plot was discovered in September 1780. John AndrĂ© was caught carrying papers which revealed Arnold's intentions, and was later hanged. Washington himself attempted to arrest Arnold, who narrowly escaped to Virginia; he wrote to Washington, though, and requested only that his wife be allowed to travel unharmed to her family in Philadelphia. Washington, to perhaps no one's surprise, agreed to this. Arnold then joined the British army, where he was not popular, and eventually was able to take his family and relocate to Britain entirely.

Our buddy David, meanwhile, was not involved in any of this. He wasn't even with Arnold at the time of the betrayal's discovery; he was in Virginia, working as aide-de-camp to another general. I can only imagine his surprise when, on October 2, 1780, he was arrested for suspicion of involvement in the West Point plot. It almost certainly didn't help that he had an uncle living in New York, also named David Franks, who was a Loyalist; likely there were at least a few people who confused the two. A court martial ultimately dropped all the charges due to lack of foundation, and even Benedict Arnold himself wrote a letter stating that David was not involved in the plot, although it's debatable how much help a letter of support from the most famous turncoat in American history could really have been. 

David was allowed to return to service, and was assigned to the command of Washington himself, but was the subject of a whisper campaign among the soldiers. He asked Washington to open a new court martial in order to properly clear his name, which Washington did. A month-long investigation was conducted, and by the end of it, David was cleared of all suspicion - officially, at least. Washington trusted him, and sent him on a few diplomatic missions; he delivered messages and documents to Benjamin Franklin in France and John Jay in Spain. He often had to cover his own expenses for such missions, for which the young country wasn't usually able to recompense him.

Despite the formal acquittal and the confidence of Washington, though, David never fully recovered from the collateral damage of Arnold's plot. After the war he was made American vice-consul in Marseilles, and in 1786 he served on the American diplomatic team which negotiated trade between the United States and Morocco. But he fell victim to the "blood sport" of 18th century politics, in which it was common for men to attack each other with wild accusations of immoral actions. The government, under pressure from some of his detractors, removed David from the diplomatic corps and he returned to the United States, bankrupt and discredited but determined to fight for his reputation. After repeated appeals to the President for help, he was finally granted a tract of 400 acres as thanks for his service in the revolution, and Washington helped him get a position at the Bank of the United States in Philadelphia.

David died in 1793 from yellow fever. Because his personal fortune was depleted, he was about to be taken to a pauper's grave, but a kindly neighbor intervened and paid for him to be buried in Christ Church's burial ground - the same cemetery where Benjamin Franklin rests. The exact site of his grave, however, remains unknown. History has largely forgotten him; he rarely appears in reference materials, except as an unfortunate footnote in the debacle that was Benedict Arnold's treason. He was an innocent man dealt a bad hand through no fault of his own. I think the Jewish Virtual Library puts it best:

Like so many other "minor" patriots, Franks’ name is not well known today. His courage, loyalty, and willingness to expend his personal fortune for the cause of independence, plus his dogged determination to clear his name, deserve remembrance. Had he not had the bad fortune to be assigned to serve under the infamous Benedict Arnold, that name might rank with that of Haym Salomon, Mordecai Sheftall, and Francis Salvador among the best-known Jewish patriots of the American Revolution.



Sources and Further Reading:


David Franks at the Jewish Encyclopedia (Note: The first half of the article is about his similarly-named uncle, who was a Loyalist; scroll down to read the part about this David.)



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Except where indicated, all writing and photography on this blog is the intellectual property of Laura Klotz. This blog is written with permission of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission. I am not employed by the PHMC. All rights reserved.

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