David Salisbury Franks had one of the most complicated careers of any Jewish American in the Revolutionary era. He moved in the circles of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington, but his reputation was shaped most by his close association with Benedict Arnold. That connection, to the most notorious traitor in American history, cast a long shadow. Compounding the problem, Franks shared his name with his uncle, David Franks, a prominent Philadelphia loyalist and contractor to the British Army. Between Arnold and his uncle, suspicion followed him. Many contemporaries questioned his patriotism and wondered whether he, too, might have betrayed his country. David Salisbury Franks moved in the inner circles of the Revolutionary leadership, yet his career reveals how proximity to power could bring both opportunity and lasting suspicion.
Franks demanded the opportunity to answer those accusations. When he finally received it, a formal inquiry cleared him completely of any wrongdoing. Yet exoneration did not spare him from difficulty. Over the course of the war and its aftermath, he was arrested at least three times, in Quebec, Philadelphia, and France. His life was repeatedly entangled and impacted by those at the highest levels of the military and government.
The outlines of Franks’s career can be reconstructed in part through the correspondence of the Founding generation, preserved in the collections of the National Archives, University of Virginia Press, and Princeton University.
Franks was living in Montreal when the Revolution began. He worked as a merchant and served as president of the Spanish and Portuguese synagogue. The city itself was divided in its loyalties, but Franks consistently aligned himself with the Revolutionary cause. After the failure of the American attack on Quebec, he joined the retreating Continental forces and entered military service as a paymaster. Years later, in a 1789 letter to George Washington seeking a recommendation for employment, Franks described his wartime service in detail.
He opened his appeal to Washington by emphasizing both his commercial success and his early commitment to the American cause, noting that he had “settled in Montreal with a small Capital… and was successful in Business.” That success, however, quickly gave way to risk. “In the Spring of 1775,” he wrote, “I suffered a short tho rigorous imprisonment on Account of my attachment to the Cause of America.” From the outset, Franks paid a price for his loyalty to the cause. His letters reveal that he was fully committed even while in a city that was politically divided.
When American forces under General Richard Montgomery took Montreal, Franks did not merely commit himself to the cause. He committed his financial resources. He “did everything in my Power to promote their Success,” advancing “nearly to the Amount of Five hundred half Johanes in Goods & Money,” Franks became not only a participant but a financier of the Revolutionary effort, extending credit at personal risk at a moment when the Continental cause was far from secure.
His formal military service followed. After the failed assault on Quebec, General David Wooster appointed him “Clerk of the Checque or Paymaster to the Artificers of the Garrison of Montreal.” In that role, Franks described himself as diligent and committed, writing that he was “indefatigable in forwarding the public Works” and that he “advanced considerable Sums of Money, at times when there was not a farthing in the Military Chest.” His letters underscore a recurring pattern. Franks filled in gaps for an underfunded army, sustaining operations even when official funding was absent.
When the Continental Army retreated from Canada, Franks could have returned to private life. Instead, he “join’d it as a Volunteer & continued attached to that army… until the reduction of General Burgoyne.” His service spanned some of the most uncertain years of the war.
Franks’s account then places him within the wider Atlantic world of the Revolution. In 1778, he secured letters of recommendation and joined the French fleet under the Comte d’Estaing, remaining with it until the failed Rhode Island expedition. By his own telling, he moved where the war required him, returning to Philadelphia “where my military Duty called me.” Franks presents himself as a dedicated soldier following the orders given to him.
The most life-altering episode of his career appears almost matter-of-factly in his narrative. “In 1779 I went a Volunteer to Charles Town & was an Aid de Camp in General Lincoln’s Family ’till I was recalled to attend the Tryal of General Arnold. In 1780, I was in Arnolds military Family at West Point until his Desertion to the Enemy.” Franks doesn’t avoid his connection to Arnold. He acknowledges it plainly, then immediately follows with the action he took: “a Court of Enquiry which I had solicited… made the Report… which His Excellency was pleased to accept and approve.” The emphasis is crucial. Franks did not wait for accusations to overtake him; he sought out an investigation and received formal approval from Washington himself.
At the time Benedict Arnold’s treason was revealed, David Salisbury Franks was at the center of the scandal. Association alone was enough to place Franks under suspicion. As Arnold’s aide-de-camp, he, along with Colonel Richard Varick was part of what contemporaries called the general’s “military family.” Franks was even entrusted with escorting Arnold’s distraught wife back to Philadelphia. This closeness was enough to make him suspect.
Franks found himself repeatedly accused, at least informally, of complicity in Arnold’s betrayal. Franks felt a deep need to defend his reputation. He turned directly to George Washington, writing on October 16, 1780 to request a formal inquiry. Franks’s letter makes clear both his urgency and his strategy: he demanded scrutiny.
“When last I had the Honor of seeing your Excellency, I requested to be indulged with a Court of Enquiry on my Conduct… not only to investigate what Knowledge or Share I might have had in the late General Arnold’s Perfidy…”
Franks wanted to go beyond addressing the immediate crisis. He wanted to examine his entire service under Arnold. Washington had already agreed to an inquiry into the question of treason, though he hesitated to extend it into the broader matters when no formal accusation existed. What prompted Franks to press further was not any official accusation, but rumors. As he explained, a damaging charge was being repeated: “a Report has been circulated… of a most cruel and injurious tendency, That of having perjured myself last Winter to save Arnold…”
Franks felt the accusation challenged his integrity. He framed his situation starkly. He had left any financial influence and important family and friends that might help him in Canada. He had only his reputation, now endangered by his association with Arnold:
“unsupported by Connections or Interests… I had here nothing but a Name unspotted… until Arnold’s baseness gave the Tongue of Calumny…”
Even as he stated his innocence, Franks recognized that it might not be enough. He feared that he might never be able to sway public opinion. Only a thorough and official investigation could restore his damaged reputation: “A conscious Innocence… may cheer, yet cannot support me thro’ a World, too easily misled…”
Washington agreed to proceed. He directed that an inquiry be held under General William Heath, though limited to Franks’s conduct as Arnold’s aide rather than broader civil accusations. The structure of the inquiry itself was unusual. Franks and Varick effectively examined one another, responding to questions about their knowledge of Arnold’s actions and their conduct during the crisis. The two men carefully reconstructed the events around Arnold’s treason in a way that established their innocence.
Exoneration and Its Limits
In the end, the court delivered a clear verdict. Both Franks and Varick were fully exonerated and declared faithful to their country. Yet, as Franks’s letters suggest, formal judgment didn’t always change public opinion. The exoneration did not fully resolve the doubts that lingered around those who had served under Arnold.
By late November, Franks still had concerns. A few weeks after the inquiry had taken place, its conclusions had not yet been widely disseminated. Writing again to Washington on November 24, he made clear that exoneration alone was insufficient. The report declaring him innocent needed to be widely seen.
Varick had already written to request publication and Franks echoed his sentiments: “I have every Reason to hope… the same Mode of Publication may be pursued. The length of time which has elapsed since Arnold Defection makes me very solicitous that the Report may be put in orders as soon as possible, many People are to this Hour inclin’d to think that my Connection with Arnold could not be void of criminallity.”
Soon after his exoneration, Franks’s career recovered, at least formally. He was promoted to lieutenant colonel and continued in service, eventually moving into diplomatic work. In this role, he used the same qualities that had made him useful during the war. He showed he had reliability, intelligence, and a willingness to take on sensitive assignments. He carried dispatches for American representatives, including missions to John Jay and Benjamin Franklin in Europe and North Africa.
A glimpse of Franks at a more personal level comes from Thomas Jefferson, who worked with him and offered a candid assessment in a letter to James Madison on February 14, 1783. Jefferson began with a measured appraisal: “He appears to have a good enough heart, an understanding somewhat better than common…”
Franks emerges here as a capable and decent worker, perhaps not exceptional, but not deficient either. Jefferson’s concern, however, lay not in Franks’s abilities, but in a very specific type of flaw. Jefferson wrote Franks had: “…but too little guard over his lips.”
It was a particular situation that Jefferson worried about:
“I have marked him particularly in the company of women where he loses all power over himself and becomes almost frenzied.”
Jefferson’s comments reveal how Franks could be perceived. He would go on to write: “His temperature would not be proof against their allurements…This is in some measure the vice of his age but it seems to be increased also by his peculiar constitution.” Franks was talented and trustworthy, yet flawed in very human ways.
One absence in all of this correspondence is equally revealing. Franks’ religion appears nowhere in the letters of Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, or other leading figures of the era. Although he was Jewish, that identity is never mentioned in connection with his service. In the surviving record, Franks is defined by his conduct, his reputation, and his relationships—not his religious background.
By the end of his life, Franks was removed from the circles of the Founding Fathers and highest-ranking officers of the Revolution. During the yellow fever epidemic of 1793 in Philadelphia, Franks died while working for the Bank of the United States. Like many victims of the outbreak, he was buried quickly, in this case at Christ Church Burial Ground. His interment there reflects the emergency conditions of the epidemic rather than any religious affiliation; a neighbor ensured he received a burial rather than being consigned to one of the anonymous burials that marked the crisis.
Franks’s career was shaped by proximity to power and shadowed by suspicion. He was a capable officer and diplomat whose reveals both the opportunities and uncertainties faced by Jewish Americans in the Revolutionary era.