CHAPTER TWELVE: Independence: Philadelphia, 1775–1776

Franklin arrives back in London in 1765 and becomes entangled in the Stamp Act crisis, initially taking a pragmatic stance that badly damages his reputation in Philadelphia. After a dramatic parliamentary testimony in 1766 that restores his standing, he navigates the complexities of remaining a royalist while increasingly aligned with colonial grievances, ultimately transformed into America's leading patriot by the Townshend duties crisis of 1767–1770.

Franklin arrives unannounced at his lodgings on Craven Street in London, having promised his wife Deborah he would return home within months—a promise he will break for over a decade. He settles into an active social life with friends including physician Sir John Pringle, resumes his domestic arrangement with his landlady Mrs. Stevenson, and reconnects with her daughter Polly. He also brings his illegitimate grandson Temple into his household orbit, though he never mentions the boy to Deborah.

When the Stamp Act passes in March 1765, Franklin initially underestimates colonial opposition. He recommends his friend John Hughes for the unpopular position of collection officer and privately argues for pragmatism, writing that Americans should "light candles" rather than resist. This equivocation becomes public and devastates his reputation in Philadelphia. A mob threatens his house; Deborah famously refuses to flee and helps organize its defense with the aid of supporters called the White Oak Boys.

Franklin responds with an aggressive essay campaign using multiple pseudonyms (Homespun, Pacificus Secundus, A Traveler) to attack the act and promote boycotts. On February 13, 1766, he delivers his most significant oratorical performance to Parliament, answering 174 questions with cogent arguments about colonial taxation, representation, and the empire's harmony. His testimony brilliantly distinguishes between Parliament's right to levy external (trade) duties and its lack of authority to impose internal (direct) taxes. The Stamp Act is promptly repealed, and Franklin's reputation is fully restored in America.

However, his family life languishes in his absence. His daughter Sally falls in love with Richard Bache, a man of questionable finances. Franklin's initial opposition to the match—based on Bache's financial failure and suspicions of fortune-hunting—does little to stop their October 1767 marriage, which Franklin misses entirely. He expresses only cool disapproval in his letters, though he eventually warms to Bache in August 1768. His wife Deborah endures loneliness and occasional health crises, writing poignant letters about cleaning the house and waiting for his return. Temple becomes integrated into his London household; his own children and wife remain emotionally distant.

Meanwhile, Franklin's surrogate family on Craven Street—Mrs. Stevenson and especially Polly—provides the intellectual companionship he craves. When Polly becomes engaged to William Hewson, a promising medical researcher, Franklin initially withholds endorsement but eventually attends their May 1770 wedding, a commitment he did not make for his own children. He and Polly create a fake newspaper, the Craven Street Gazette, documenting Mrs. Stevenson's absence with witty jabs at Franklin's domestic foibles and laziness.

The Townshend duties crisis of 1767 forces Franklin to reconsider his moderate stance. He had testified that Americans accepted Parliament's right to external taxes—a distinction that Chancellor Townshend cleverly exploits by imposing duties on glass, paper, china, paint, and tea. Franklin initially remains cautious, even while Boston erupts in outrage under Samuel Adams's leadership. But his ambitions for a British government post are dashed in August 1768 when Lord Hillsborough, the new colonial secretary, dismisses him from consideration and flatly rejects the long-pending petition to convert Pennsylvania from Proprietary to royal rule.

This rejection becomes Franklin's turning point. He launches a public essay war against Hillsborough and the Townshend duties, publishing articles under thin pseudonyms (Francis Lynn) that grow increasingly radical. He warns that misguided ministers will convert loyal subjects into rebels and publishes a parable about a lion cub growing strong enough to strike back at an English dog. When Massachusetts appoints him as agent in January 1771, Hillsborough openly sneers at him in his chambers and denies the appointment's validity—prompting Franklin to declare himself useless as an agent and walk out in fury.

By 1770, Franklin has evolved from a smooth operator seeking harmony within the empire to a vocal critic of parliamentary tyranny. The Boston Massacre in March and the partial repeal of the Townshend duties (retaining the tea tax as a principle assertion) strengthen his conviction that Parliament has no authority to tax the colonies. He writes privately that only two positions are tenable: Parliament has total power or none at all, and he is leaning toward the latter. Yet he still clings to the hope that loyalty to the king—distinct from submission to Parliament—might preserve colonial autonomy. His letters to Massachusetts patriots like Samuel Cooper and Charles Thomson are widely published and secure his reputation as America's leading spokesperson in London, even as critics like Arthur Lee attack his continued caution and suspect his motives remain tainted by his postmastership and ambition.