Although they shared values, Franklin was far more worldly and intellectual than his wife was, or ever wanted ever to be. During her adult life, Deborah never seems to have spent a night away from her home on Market Street within two blocks of the house where she was raised. Franklin, on the other hand, loved to travel, and although he would occasionally express some hope that she would accompany him, he knew that she was not so inclined. They respected each other’s independence, perhaps to a fault. For fifteen of the last seventeen years of Deborah’s life, Franklin would be away, including when she died. He would also, as we shall see, form close friendships and diverting flirtations with other women—though no committed romantic or sexual relationships—and his letters to Deborah, while frequent and chatty, were rarely emotionally or intellectually engaging.
Nevertheless, their mutual affection, respect, loyalty and devotion—and their sense of partnership—would endure. The only extant painting of Deborah makes her seem like a sensible and determined woman, plump and plain but not unattractive. It was a relationship that did not inspire great romantic verse, but it did produce an endearing ballad that he put into the mouth of Poor Richard. In it Franklin paid tribute to “My Plain Country Joan,” his nickname for Deborah, and blessed the day he made her his own.
I SING MY PLAIN COUNTRY JOAN, C. 1742
Of their Chloes and Phillisses Poets may prate
I sing my plain Country Joan
Now twelve Years my Wife, still the Joy of my Life
Blest Day that I made her my own,
My dear Friends
Blest Day that I made her my own.
Not a word of her shape, or her face, or her eyes,
Of flames or of darts shall you hear:
Though I beauty admire, ’tis virtue I prize,
Which fades not in seventy years,
My dear Friends
In Health a Companion delightful and dear,
Still easy, engaging, and Free,
In Sickness no less than the faithfullest Nurse
As tender as tender can be,
My dear Friends
In peace and good order my household she guides,
Right careful to save what I gain;
Yet cheerfully spends, and smiles on the friends
I’ve the pleasure to entertain,
My dear Friends
She defends my good Name ever where I’m to blame,
Friend firmer was ne’er to Man giv’n,
Her Compassionate Breast, feels for all the Distrest,
Which draws down the Blessing from Heavn,
My dear Friends
Am I laden with Care, she takes off a large Share,
That the Burthen ne’er makes to reel,
Does good Fortune arrive, the Joy of my Wife,
Quite Doubles the Pleasures I feel
My dear Friends
In Raptures the giddy Rake talks of his Fair,
Enjoyment shall make him Despise,
I speak my cool sense, that long Experience,
And Enjoyment have changd in no wise,
My dear Friends
The best have some faults, and so has my Joan,
But then they’re exceedingly small,
And now, I’m used to ’em, they’re so like my own,
I can scarcely feel them at all,
My dear Friends
I can scarcely see them at all.
Were the fairest young Princess, with Million in Purse
To be had in Exchange for my Joan,
She could not be a better Wife, mought be a Worse,
So I’d stick to my Joggy alone
My dear Friends
I’d cling to my lovely old Joan.