This diamond gift to Benjamin Franklin is the reason Donald Trump can’t profit from the presidency
The emolument clause in the Constitution goes back to the 1700s
On October 26, 1776, exactly one month after being named the first American diplomat by the Continental Congress, Benjamin Franklin set sail from Philadelphia for France charged with the monumental task of gaining the support of King Louis XVI for American independence amid the Revolutionary War against the British.
Franklin’s popularity and diplomatic skills guaranteed not only France’s continued secret support for the American Patriot cause with shipments of war supplies, but with the victory over the British at the Battle of Saratoga in October 1777, the American ambassador solidified France’s recognition of American independence followed by a critical military alliance in 1778.
For his social charms and mastery of nearly every subject he touched (including the language of his new environs), the French aristocracy immediately embraced Franklin as an exemplary symbol of the New World Enlightenment. Claude-Anne Lopez, the late Franklin scholar, wrote that Franklin “was temperamentally suited for France. The streak of irreverence that ran through his entire life found a congenial reception in Paris, as did his love of laughter and desire to amuse. He did not shock the French, nor did his interest in women, which was considered perfectly normal.”
Franklin rather enjoyed his glamorous life in France and extended his mission as ambassador for several years, during which he helped negotiate the Treaty of Paris of 1783, ending the Revolutionary War with Britain. Back home, however, others began to worry about his newfound preference for not only the political elites of France, but also England — so much so, that he was twice nearly recalled from his post in Paris. Sam Adams became concerned that Franklin had turned into a Tory (shorthand for preference of the King of England over democracy) and fellow diplomat Arthur Lee called him the “most corrupt of all corrupt men.”
In 1785, as Franklin was set to leave Paris and return to Philadelphia, King Louis XVI requested to see him one last time to offer a token of his appreciation — a custom for departing diplomats. However, the king did not view Franklin as just a passing diplomat and he bestowed upon America’s first ambassador the most magnificent of snuff boxes adorned with a miniature portrait of the French monarch, housed in a gold case encrusted with a total of 408 diamonds “of a beautiful water.”
The predicament was not lost on Franklin. To his young American contemporaries, such an elaborate gift from a foreign power was a symbol of everything that was wrong with the old, corrupt monarchies of Europe and, in their eyes, Franklin was now dangerously close to trafficking that corruption back to Philadelphia.
However, there were provisions for these exact circumstances.
The Articles of Confederation, the precursor to the Constitution, banned any “person holding any office of profit or trust under the United States” from accepting “any present, emolument, office, or title of any kind whatever, from any king, prince, or foreign State.”
Franklin found himself in a difficult position, caught between two sets of rules: not accepting the gift would give the appearance of shunning French customs and potentially harming relations with France, but keeping it would create a situation in which he would appear to be indebted to the king.
The American inventor put the conundrum before Congress. With the approval of Congress, and Thomas Jefferson’s blessing, the extraordinary gift was his, and passed as a special line item in his will to his daughter Sarah Bache, who was to leave the snuff box untouched.
Franklin wrote: “The King of France’s Picture set with Four hundred and eight Diamonds, I give to my Daughter, Sarah Bache, requesting however that she would not form any of those Diamonds into Ornaments either for herself of Daughters and thereby introduce or countenance the expensive, vain and useless Fashion of wearing Jewels in this Country.”
Still, the episode did not sit well with many Americans and in 1787, at the Constitutional Convention, the framers saw corruption as the primary threat to the republic and the subject dominated many rounds of debate. The founders worried that larger and wealthier foreign countries like France and England were well-positioned to corrupt the politics of the emerging American democratic political system through cash and gifts — something that could influence American trade or the terms of war and peace.
Massachusetts delegate Elbridge Gerry, the framer most known to insist on the Bill of Rights, argued, “Persons having foreign attachments will be sent among us & insinuated into our councils, in order to be made instruments for their purposes. Every one knows the vast sums laid out in Europe for secret services.”
So, under the Constitution, before even the most ordinary gift from a foreign power could be accepted, it would have to go through congressional approval in what Jefferson called “the gridiron of Congress.”
The provision passed without controversy and it had teeth. At the Virginia convention debating the Constitution, Virginia Governor Edmund Randolph pressed the point that a president taking emoluments from a foreign power would be an impeachable offense. And, for more than 200 years, presidents have taken great pains to avoid violating the prohibition.
But what happened to the snuff box?
Franklin’s daughter, Sarah, initially complied with the conditions. But once it was in her hands, the snuff box was slowly dismantled. She removed the outer ring of diamonds to finance an excursion to France, according to the American Philosophical Society, the current custodian of the box. In the years that followed, the gift passed from mother to daughter, with each generation plucking diamonds from the snuff box. Diamonds were given to family members or sold to finance pet projects. By the mid-20th century, only one diamond remained, though a few of the originals have made their way back in.
