April Fool’s Day originated among the French a few years into the Revolutionary War. Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin had been pleading with them for any sort of assistance. The brand new nation, fighting for their independence, told the soon-to-crumble powerhouse that they’d gladly take anything: ammunition, food, lovely ladies, cash. The French eventually grew tired of the constant ask for resources and sent a messenger onto a small ship with nothing but a letter and potential locations of the Continental Congress meetings.
The young clerk took the scenic route and made his way to Independence Hall a few weeks after arriving in a run-down New Jersey port. He awkwardly asked around until he found secretary Charles Thompson sitting at a desk, poorly drawing an eagle with outlandish muscles aiming a cannon at a redcoat. With a shaking hand, he gave Thompson the letter. He asked him in quiet, broken English that the letter is from France and to make sure it is read by President Peyton Randolph. The shy clerk ran for the door as Thompson examined the letter, not leaving any opportunity for follow-up questions.
Thompson thought about opening the letter and having the first read, but decided against it when noted Frankophile Franklin walked past him and asked about the document in his hand. They both went to Randoph to deliver the message.
Franklin had a grin as Randolph examined the letter before opening it. He sensed it was good news that would provide this rag-tag militia of amateur farmers the support needed to make American independence more than a strongly-worded declaration. His smile quickly turned as he observed Randolph’s perplexed look. He finished his drink and quickly poured three liberal shots of whiskey as he suddenly anticipated bad news. This was done twice before Randoph opened his mouth. Other members of the congress had gathered in curiosity. There was a pause as Randoph chose his words.
“The news is not good,” Randolph mumbled weakly. “I shall read the letter.” He poured himself another drink and waited so his peers had the opportunity to do the same.
Dear Americans,
While we wish you luck in your conflict with the British, we are not able to provide any further assistance at this time. We have given your visiting diplomats our finest wine and whores and art and ideas. We feel that we have done more than enough for you whiny colonies. You are responsible for your own uprising. We have our own problems to deal with and have decided to operate on a “France First” policy. However, we will be sending a shipment of cake for your edible enjoyment.
The entire congress wilted at the news. The room was silent save for the sound of alcohol pouring and glasses being defeatedly put on tables. Everyone took a seat as each internally contemplated the next move, all hoping someone else would speak first.
“I’m not looking forward to reading Hamilton’s scathing and wordy response,” John Adams said quietly. “Even his positive updates are tough to read.”
“Too bad Rhode Island didn’t send any delegates,” Jon Jay said of one of the two states that didn’t send anyone to the second continental congress. “We could have had him go tell Washington in person so he’d get the brunt of his wrath.”
“Maybe having independence is overrated,” John Hancock said unconvincingly. “Governing is hard.”
“At least we’ll get consolation cake,” Thompson said. “That will go great with treason.”
Thomas Jefferson said nothing, but made his way over to an empty table with quill and paper in hand. The other members watched intently, but the only sound came from Jefferson’s frantic writing.
The young French messenger barged in breathing heavily with a new letter folded neatly in his left hand. He was sweating and took his time to catch his breath before cautiously walking towards Randolph. He was fully aware of the murderous look in the eyes of the men as he walked by them.
“The captain of my ship gave me this letter when I returned,” he said in fear. “He said that I was instructed to bring it to you immediately and wait for your response.” He handed Randolph the letter and stood in a defensive stance.
There were many pleas to read the letter aloud as Randolph opened it. His hands were shaking and his face pale, but he heeded their requests.
Dear Americans,
Fuck the British! We have many ships full of artillery, supplies and soldiers on their way. They should arrive in what you call a fortnight. Stay strong and united and we will help you secure your independence from those Brit bastards.
Please forgive our ruse. It was our strategy to make you briefly feel the terror of potential defeat before knowing that you will confidently be victorious. We look forward to our alliance with your new nation.
Sincerely,
Sir Avrilian Le Fou