“_Vor der Ankunft Dean’s und Franklin’s, Beaumarchais war ohne Frage,
der bestunterrichtete Kenner Englands und der Vereinigten Staaten auf
dem continent._”
_Bettelheim_, “_Beaumarchais: Eine Biographie._”
Beaumarchais’s Earliest Activities in the Cause of American
Independence—First Steps of the Government of
France—Bonvouloir—Discord Among Parties in England—Beaumarchais’s
Memoirs to the King—Meets Arthur Lee—Lee’s Letter to
Congress—King Still Undecided—Curious Letter of Beaumarchais,
with Replies Traced in the Handwriting of the King.
No record of the actual awakening of Beaumarchais’s interest in the War
of American Independence has ever been brought to light, but certain it
is that for nearly a year before the date of any document contained in
the French Archives, Beaumarchais was the “real, though secret, agent of
the Minister Vergennes in London.”
The earliest written allusion to any definite commission from the
government in regard to this matter is found in the letter of
Beaumarchais to Vergennes, written July 14, 1775, a part of which,
relating to the Chevalier d’Eon, is given in the previous chapter. After
announcing exultantly the possession of the keys to the famous chest of
which it had just been questioned, he continued: “I would return at once
to give the details of what I have accomplished if I were only charged
with one object; but I am charged with four, and find myself obliged to
leave for Flanders with milord Ferrers and in his vessel. It would not
be just that the _King and M. de Sartine_ were less content than the
_King and M. de Vergennes_....
“In politics, it is not sufficient to work, one must succeed....
“I shall take no repose until I have informed you in regard to the
veritable state of things in England, a knowledge of which becomes more
important from day to day. As soon as I shall be as tranquil over the
objects of M. de Sartine as I am now over ‘_notre amazone_’ (the
Chevalier d’Eon) I shall return to Versailles....
“I profit by the first sure occasion of dropping a letter into the post
at Calais, to tell you, without its being known in London, that I have
just put into the hands of the King, the papers and the creature that
they have wished to use against him at any price.
“I say, ‘without its being discovered in London,’ because it is a great
question to find out what my object is, but what can be gotten from a
man who neither speaks nor writes?
“I am with the most respectful devotion, M. de Comte ... etc....
Beaumarchais” (letter given by Gaillardet in his _Mémoires sur le
Chevalier d’Eon_).
Beaumarchais’s mission to Flanders is alluded to in another place by
Gaillardet, without, however, giving any authority for the statement
which he made. He said, “The court of Louis XVI still hesitated to
follow Beaumarchais in the adventurous career whither he was drawing it,
so to speak, with a tow-line, ... although Holland and Spain were
already engaged by his efforts to embrace the cause of France and the
United States against England.”
Doniol in his _Histoire de la Participation de la France dans_
_l’Etablissement des Etats-Unis_, said: “Franklin before returning to
America had treated with armorers and merchants of England, Holland and
France for the furnishing and transmitting of munitions of war to the
colonies. These operations were centralized in London, and Beaumarchais
did not remain ignorant of them.... He knew, heard, and prepared many
things.”
Although “no special memoir, no private archive has up to the present
revealed the intimate details (Doniol, II, 31),” it seems certain that
the plans of Beaumarchais centered in the dispatching of funds, or if
possible, of ammunitions of war, to the insurged colonies, and that the
head of these operations was to be in the Low Countries. To further
these projects, the most profound secrecy was necessary, not only to
ensure their success, but to prevent the government from being
compromised. This fact accounts sufficiently for the almost total lack
of documents relative to these negotiations. What facilitated them was
the profound discord which existed at this time in England itself, and
especially the diversity of opinion in relation to the uprising among
the colonists. No one realized the deep significance of this fact for
the interest of France and of America better than Beaumarchais, and no
one knew so well how to turn it to the advantage of both these
countries. It goes without saying that had England been united in her
desire to crush America and united in her attempts to prevent foreign
interference, the history of the war would have been very different from
what it was.
As a matter of fact in England “a party, small indeed in numbers, but
powerful from its traditions, its connections, and its abilities, had
identified itself completely with the cause of the insurgents, opposed
and embarrassed the Government in every effort to augment its forces and
to subsidize allies, openly rejoiced in the victories of the Americans,
and exerted all its eloquence to justify and encourage them.” (Lecky,
III, 545.)
“This glorious spirit of Whiggism,” said Chatham in a speech delivered
in January, 1775, “animates three millions in America, who prefer
poverty with liberty, to gilded chains and sordid affluence, who will
die in defence of their rights as freemen.... All attempts to impose
servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty
continental nation, must be vain, must be fatal. We shall be forced
ultimately to retreat. Let us retreat while we can, not when we must.”
From the beginning, the members of the Opposition had emphasized the
danger to Great Britain that would arise from a prolonged struggle with
the colonies, foreseeing that they later would be forced into an
alliance with France. (Walpole’s last Journal, 11-182.)
At this time the Americans had no sympathy for the French and no desire
to incur any debt of gratitude towards them. “France had hitherto been
regarded in America, even more than in England, as a natural enemy. Her
expulsion from America had been for generations one of the first objects
of American patriots, and if she again mixed in American affairs it was
naturally thought that she would seek to regain the province she had
lost.” (Lecky, 111, 453.) To ask aid of her was at first an intolerable
thought to the greater number among the Revolutionary party—necessity
alone finally drove them to the step. Even then, it was with no
intention of accepting the help with gratitude, as subsequent events
proved: It was a means to an end, and the less said about it, the sooner
it was obliterated or forgotten, the better for all concerned.
The attitude of France towards America was of a totally different
nature. There was never any feeling of animosity against Americans
engendered by those wars which finally terminated so disastrously for
the French in the peace of 1763. As these wars had all been of European
origin, the resentment of the French fell upon the English alone. The
very name America had a wild, sweet charm for every Frenchman’s ear. For
him the red man was no savage foe, but a friend and brother. Side by
side they penetrated together the dense fastnesses of the primeval
forests, ascended the rivers, climbed the mountains, shot the cataracts;
at night they lay down under the same tent, shared the same meals and
smoked together the pipe of peace. The dread which kept the English
settlers hovering near the coast was unknown to the French. Thus they
were able to explore and claim for the great Sun-King the vast central
region, part of which bears his name to the present day. Not only was
the thought of these great possessions alluring to adventurers and
traders; philosophers and thinkers as well looked into the future and
saw the part that they were to play in the development of the race. In
1750 Turgot had uttered the following words, “Vast regions of America!
Equality keeps them from both luxury and want, and preserves to them
purity and simplicity with freedom. Europe herself will find there the
perfection of her political societies, and the surest support of her
well-being.” But since 1763 the fruit of French explorations on the
continent of America had been in the hands of the English; a few sugar
islands among the West Indies alone remained to them. Their foot-hold in
America was gone, but not their love for America. More than this a
generosity of nature, joined to a tolerance of, and admiration for
qualities not of the same type as their own, has always been a marked
characteristic of the French. It was therefore in the very nature of
things that the nation should have been roused to enthusiasm by the
news of the heroic resistance of the colonies, especially when it is
taken into consideration that every blow dealt by the defenders of
liberty, was aimed directly at the “triumphant political rival of
France.”
But the people of the nation were not its government, and at the time of
the uprising in America, France was ruled by a king, weak indeed in
character yet absolute in power, in whose divine right to rule, his
ministers as well as himself, believed. It was not, therefore, to be
expected that the French government would look with favor upon the
rebellious subjects of any nation, whether friend or foe. It was in the
nature of things that they should hesitate before encouraging measures
that were intended to aid revolt. As late as March 5, 1775, M. de
Vergennes had written to the French ambassador in London bidding him
quiet the fears of the English government in regard to the probable
interference of France. “The maintenance of peace with England,” he
wrote, “is our unique object.”
The French government, however, could not wholly resist the tide of
public sentiment or remain altogether unmoved by considerations of
interest. It was thought well to send some prudent and sagacious agent
to the New World to try the public temper and to see if the interference
of France actually was desired. A man admirably fitted for the task
recently had arrived in London from the French West Indies, who in
returning, had passed through the colonies, and who knew them well,
leaving many acquaintances there. This man was Bonvouloir. The 7th of
August, 1775, M. de Vergennes wrote to the French Ambassador, “The King
very much approves the mission of Bonvouloir.” (Bancroft—IV—360) “His
instructions,” he wrote to the ambassador a little later, “should be
verbal and confined to the two most essential objects: the one to make
a faithful report to you of the events and of the prevailing disposition
of the public mind; the other to secure the Americans against jealousy
of us. Canada is for them _le point jaloux_: they must be made to
understand that we do not think of it in the least.” (Quoted from J.
Durand’s _New Materials for the History of the American Revolution_,
1889, p. 1-16, Bonvouloir.)
On the 8th of September he set sail. The result of his mission, although
it promised nothing to the colonies, was to them at least an
encouragement. Already in the Summer of 1775 a motion had been made in
Congress and strongly supported by John Adams, to send an ambassador to
France. “But Congress still shrank from so formidable a step, though it
agreed, after long debates and hesitation, to form a secret committee to
correspond with friends in Great Britain, Ireland, and other parts of
the world.” (Adams’s Life, I, 200-202.) It was with this secret
committee, of which the celebrated Dr. Franklin was a prominent member,
that Bonvouloir came in touch.
Although the French government had taken this one preliminary step, she
remained to all appearances as indifferent to the cause of the colonists
as she was to the condition of affairs in England. Beaumarchais began
deluging her with such volumes of information on both these subjects,
that almost in spite of herself, her own interest was aroused. “The
energy of a believer is a force to which undecided convictions yield—and
this was the case with the King in regard to the schemes of
Beaumarchais.” (Gaillardet.)
But before entering into a consideration of those schemes, it would be
well to glance at the actual condition of England herself. We already
have spoken of the division existing in her midst, but the greatest
difficulty which the English government had to encounter was the one
that she has had to face in 1914 when she found herself suddenly
plunged into war with another country, namely that of raising a
formidable army. Then as now, the hatred of conscription was so deep
rooted in the English people that even the government of Lord North did
not dare to resort to it. “To raise the required troops on short notice
was very difficult.... The land tax was raised to four shillings in the
pound. New duties were imposed; new bounties were offered. Recruiting
agents traversed the country.... Recruits, however, came very slowly.
There was no enthusiasm for a war with English settlers. No measure
short of conscription could raise at once the necessary army in England
and to propose conscription would be fatal to any government.” (Lecky,
III, 455.)
In her dilemma, England found herself reduced to the infamous measure of
hiring German soldiers to fight for her against her own subjects. The
shameful conduct of the Landgrave of Hesse, the Duke of Brunswick and
the Prince of Waldeck, has been immortalized by Germany’s great poet,
Schiller, in his _Kabale und Liebe_; “In England they excited only
contempt and indignation.” (Lecky) Moreover, the disorders arising from
the press-gang service ran high, while “after three expulsions, the
famous demagogue Wilkes” still retained his seat in Parliament, and in
1774 had been made Lord-Mayor of London. At a public dinner he had been
heard to exclaim insolently, “For a long time the King of England has
done me the honor of hating me. On my side, I have always rendered him
the justice of despising him; the time has come to decide which has the
better judged the other, and to which side the wind will make the heads
fall.” This divided condition among the people themselves justified the
assertion of Beaumarchais, made in his memoir to the King: “Open war in
America is less pernicious to England than the intestine war which
seems likely to break out before long in London; the bitterness between
the parties has risen to the highest excesses since the proclamation of
the King, declaring the Americans rebels.” Beaumarchais in this was only
voicing the general opinion. But “The English People,” says Loménie,
“with that national sentiment and good sense which often has
characterized them in great crises, baffled these previsions. The defeat
of the English troops weakened the opposition more than the ministry.
Everything became subordinate to the necessity of combatting with
energy; and the irritation, instead of augmenting, cooled down
considerably.”
As the war progressed, party-feeling disappeared while the actual entry
of France into the struggle developed a unity of purpose among the
English which would have been very disastrous to the new nation, had it
existed in the beginning.
The summer of 1775 was passed by Beaumarchais, ostensibly in
negotiations with the chevalier d’Eon, in reality with plans and
arrangements made with other European powers to join France in the
secret support of the colonies. No word written or spoken of these
negotiations escaped him, so that we can judge of their nature only from
the results. “The middle of September,” says Doniol (p. 134, I) “having
arranged his combinations, he returned to Versailles to emphasize the
necessity of France’s conducting herself as the future ally of the
Americans, that is, to come to an understanding with them in regard to
the aid necessary for the development of their revolt.”
M. de Vergennes seems to have been his first confidant. It was decided
to act on the mind of the King. A memoir was to be drawn up and given to
M. de Sartine who should believe himself the unique confidant. This plan
was disclosed in the following letter which Beaumarchais wrote to
Vergennes:
“Sept. 22, 1775
“Pour vous seul;
“M. le comte: M. de Sartine gave me back the paper yesterday, but
said nothing to me of the affair. Now in relation to the secret
which I let him think I was guarding from you, relative to my
memoir to the King, I thought it better that I wrote to you an
ostensible letter which you could carry or send to His Majesty
and if you were not charged by him with a reply, at least I
should receive one from your bounty to console me for having
taken useless pains. Send, I beg you, a blank passport, if you
think I should await the orders of the King in London, in case he
has not the time now, to decide the matter well. Of all this,
please be kind enough to inform me. Everything being understood
thus between us, it will be to your advantage to write to me so
obscurely that no one but myself can divine the object of your
letter, if you should send it to me by way of the ambassador.”
...
The “ostensible” letter, which was written at the same time for
the purpose of making an impression upon the King, was sent to
the latter the next day by Vergennes with the following note:
“I see, Sire, by the letter of the Sieur de Beaumarchais which I
have the honor to join to this, that he himself already has had
that of reporting to Your Majesty the notions he collected in
London, and what profit he thinks can be drawn from them.” ...
After asking for the King’s orders, he continued, “I requested M.
de Beaumarchais, who was to leave to-night for London, to defer
starting until to-morrow at noon....
“De Vergennes.
“A Versailles, le 23 Septembre 1775.”
(Quoted from Doniol I, 133.)
The “ostensible” letter is addressed to Vergennes but is really a second
appeal to the King. In it Beaumarchais dared to state forcefully the
embarrassment into which the King’s silence plunged him. He says:
“Monsieur le Comte,
“When zeal is indiscreet, it should be reprimanded; when it is
agreeable, it should be encouraged; but all the sagacity in the
world, would not enable him to whom nothing is replied, to divine
what conduct it is expected he should maintain.
“I sent yesterday to the King through M. de Sartine, a short
memoir which is the resumé of the long conference which you
accorded me the day before; it is the exact state of men and
things in England; it is terminated by the offer which I made you
to suppress for the time necessary for our preparations for war,
everything which by its noise, or its silence could hasten or
retard the moment. There must have been question of all this in
the council yesterday, and this morning you have sent me no word.
The most mortal thing to affairs of any kind is uncertainty or
loss of time.
“Should I await your reply or must I leave without having
received any? Have I done well or ill to penetrate the sentiments
of those minds whose dispositions are becoming so important for
us? Shall I allow in the future these confidences to come to
nothing and repel them instead of welcoming them—these overtures
which should have a direct influence upon the actual resolution?
In a word, am I an agent useful to his country, or only a
traveller deaf and dumb? I ask no new commission. I have too
serious work for my own personal affairs to finish in France for
that, but I would have felt that I had failed in my duty to the
King, to you, to my country, if I allowed all the good I might
bring about and all the evil which I might prevent to remain
unknown.
“I wait your reply to this letter before starting. If you have no
answer to make me, I shall regard this voyage as blank and nul;
and without regretting my pains, I will return instantly to
terminate in four days what remains to do with d’Eon and come
back without seeing anyone; they will indeed be very much
astonished, but another can do better perhaps; I wish it with my
whole heart.”
The memoir which had been sent to the King by way of M. de Sartine, the
21st September, 1775, shows in its first sentence that another memoir
had preceded it. Beaumarchais wrote:
“Au Roi:
“Sire,
“In the firm confidence which I hold, that these extracts which I
address to Your Majesty are for you alone, I will continue, Sire,
to present to you the truth in all points known to me, which seem
to me to be of interest to your service, without having regard to
the interests of anyone else whomsoever. I left London under
pretext of going to the country and have come running from London
to Paris, to confer with MM. de Vergennes and de Sartine upon
objects too important and too delicate to be confided to the care
of any courier.
“Sire, England is in such a crisis, such a disorder within and
without, that she would touch almost upon her ruin if her rivals
were in a state seriously to occupy themselves with her
condition. Here is the faithful exposition of the situation of
the English in America; I hold these details from an inhabitant
of Philadelphia arrived from the colonies, after a conference
with the English ministers, whom his recital has thrown into the
greatest trouble and petrified with fear. The Americans, resolved
to suffer everything rather than yield, and full of that
enthusiasm of liberty which has often rendered the little nation
of Corsica so redoubtable to the Genoese, have thirty-eight
thousand men, effectively armed and determined, under the walls
of Boston; they have reduced the English army to the necessity of
dying of hunger in that city, or of going elsewhere to find
winter quarters, something which it will do immediately. Nearly
eight thousand men well armed and equally determined, defend the
rest of the country without a single cultivator having been taken
from the land, or a workman from the manufactories. Every one who
was employed in the fisheries, which the English have destroyed,
has become a soldier and wishes to revenge the ruin of his family
and the liberty of his country; all who followed maritime
commerce, which the English have stopped, have joined the
fishermen to make war upon their common persecutors; all those
working in the ports have served to augment this army of furious
men, whose every action is animated by vengeance and rage.
“I say, Sire, that such a nation must be invincible, especially
having behind her sufficient country for a retreat, even if the
English were to become masters of the coast, which is far from
being said. All sensible people are convinced in England that the
English colonies are lost for the metropolis, and that is also my
opinion.”
Then follows an account of the discord prevailing within the
country itself, as well as an account of the secret negotiations
being carried on by members with Spain and Portugal. He concluded
thus:
“Résumé. America escapes from the English in spite of their
efforts; the war is more vividly illuminated in London than in
Boston.... Our ministry, uninformed and stagnant, remains passive
while events are occurring which touch us most closely....
“A superior and vigilant man would be indispensable in London
to-day....
“Here, Sire, are the motives of my trip to France, whatever use
Your Majesty may make of this memoir I count upon the virtue, the
goodness of my Master, trusting that he will not allow these
proofs of my zeal to turn against me, in confiding them to
anyone, which would only augment the number of my enemies. They
will, however, never hinder me from serving you so long as I am
certain of the protection of Your Majesty.
“Caron de Beaumarchais.”
Of the secret deliberations of the council and the resolutions arrived
at we can judge only from the letter of Beaumarchais addressed to
Vergennes the night of the 23rd of September. The King had read the
“ostensible” letter, and as Beaumarchais hoped, had been more stirred by
it. He had conferred with his minister and had given his orders.
Vergennes hastened to communicate them to Beaumarchais who left the same
night for London. Later he wrote:
“Paris the 23rd of September, 1775.
“Monsieur le Comte:
“I start, well informed as to the intention of the King and of
yourself. Let your Excellency have no fears; it would be an
unpardonable blunder in me to compromise in such an affair the
dignity of my master, or of his minister: to do one’s best is
nothing in politics; the first man who offers himself can do as
much. Do the best that can possibly be done under the
circumstances is what should distinguish from the common
servitor, him whom His Majesty and yourself Monsieur le Comte,
honor with your confidence in so delicate a matter. I am, etc.
“Beaumarchais.”
But the French government was slow to move. They were willing to make
use of the indefatigable zeal of their secret agent in collecting
information, but they were in no haste to commit themselves by any act
that might bring them prematurely into conflict with England. Rightly
enough, they wished to wait until the colonists themselves had arrived
at a decision. “France,” says Lecky, “had no possible interest in the
constitutional liberties of Americans. She had a vital interest in their
independence.” No one realized this fact better than Beaumarchais, and
for exactly this reason he continued to urge, with unabated ardor that
France should consent to give the colonists the secret, yet absolutely
indispensable aid, which he had been preparing; the fear which tormented
him was that through lack of means of effective resistance they should
reconcile themselves with the mother country. Still apparently occupied
with the affair of d’Eon, late in November he appeared again at
Versailles. On the 24th in a letter to Vergennes relating to the change
of costume decided upon for the Chevalier, Beaumarchais wrote: “Instead
of awaiting the reply, which should bear a definite decision, do you
approve that I write the King again that I am here, that you have seen
me trembling lest in a thing as easy as it is necessary, and perhaps the
most important that he will ever have to decide, his Majesty should
choose the negative?
“Whatever else happens I implore the favor of being allowed an audience
for a quarter of an hour, before he comes to any decision, so that I may
respectfully demonstrate to him the necessity of undertaking, the
facility of doing, the certainty of succeeding, and the immense harvest
of glory and repose which this little sowing will yield to his reign....
In case you have orders for me, I am at the hotel of Jouy rue des
Recollets.”
The “seed” which Beaumarchais demanded, which should bring such a
harvest of prosperity and glory to France was a sum of money, 2,000,000
francs perhaps, which he proposed to send as specie, or converted into
munitions of war through such channels as he had prepared in other
countries. During the first period of Beaumarchais’s activity in our
cause, no idea of his personal intervention except as transmitter of the
funds of the government, appeared to have entered his mind. The icy
coldness with which his advances were met did not in the least chill his
ardor—he only looked about for some new avenue of approach. His plans
had been disapproved, not to say rejected.—The 7th of December he
addressed another memoir to the King, couched in such respectful
language, so warm and glowing from his inmost heart, that its daring
boldness was almost forgotten. (In his _New Materials for the History of
the American Revolution_, Durand gives the Memoir in full.—The
selections here given are taken from his translation of the original.)
“Au Roi
“Sire: Your Majesty’s disapproval of a plan is, in general, a law
for its rejection by all who are interested in it. There are
plans, however, of such supreme importance to the welfare of your
Kingdom, that a zealous servant may deem it right to present
them more than once, for fear that they may not have been
understood from the most favorable point of view.
“The project which I do not mention here, but of which Your
Majesty is aware through M. de Vergennes, is of this number; I
rely wholly upon the strength of my reasons to secure its
adoption. I entreat you, Sire, to weigh them with all the
attention which such an important affair demands.
“When this paper is read by you, my duty is done. We propose,
Sire, and you judge. Yours is the more important task, for we are
responsible to you, while you, Sire, are responsible to God, to
yourself, and to the great people to whom good or ill may ensue
according to your decision.
“M. de Vergennes informs me that Your Majesty does not deem it
just to adopt the proposed expedient. The objection, then, has no
bearing on the immense utility of the project, nor on the danger
of carrying it out, but solely on the delicate conscientiousness
of Your Majesty.
“A refusal due to such honorable motives would condemn one to
silence, did not the extreme importance of the proposed object
make one examine whether the _justice_ of the King of France is
not really interested in adopting such an expedient. In general
it is certain that any idea, any project opposed to justice
should be discarded by every honest man.
“But, Sire, the policy of governments is not the moral law of its
citizens.... A kingdom is a vast isolated body, farther removed
from its neighbors by a diversity of interests, than by the sea,
the citadels, and the barriers which bound it. There is no common
law between them which ensures its safety.... The welfare and the
prosperity of each impose upon each, relations which are
variously modified under the name of international law, the
principle of which, even according to Montesquieu, is to do the
best for one’s self as the first law, with the least possible
wrong to other governments as the second.’ ...
“The justice and protection which a king owes to his subjects is
a strict and rigorous duty; while that which he may offer to
other states is never other than conventional. Hence it follows
that the national policy which preserves states, differs in
almost every respect from the civil morality which governs
individuals....
“It is the English, Sire, which it concerns you to humiliate and
to weaken, if you do not wish to be humiliated and weakened
yourself on every occasion. Have the usurpations and outrages of
that people ever had any limit but that of its strength? Have
they not always waged war against you without declaring it? Did
they not begin the last one in a time of peace, by a sudden
capture of five hundred of your vessels? Did they not humble you
by forcing you to destroy your finest seaport?... humiliation
which would have made Louis XIV _plutôt manger ses bras_ than not
atone for? A humiliation that makes the heart of every true
Frenchman bleed.... Your Majesty is no longer ignorant that the
late king, forced by events to accept the shameful treaty of
1763, swore to avenge these indignities.... The very singularity
of his plan only the better discloses his indignation....
“Without the intestine commotions which worry the English they
already would have profited by the state of weakness and disorder
under which the late king transmitted the kingdom to you, to
deprive you of the pitiful remains of your possessions in
America, Africa, and India, nearly all of them in their hands,
and yet Your Majesty is so delicate and conscientious as to
hesitate!
“An indefatigable, zealous servant succeeds in putting the most
formidable weapon in your hand, one you can use without
committing yourself and without striking a blow, so as to abase
your natural enemies and render them incapable of injuring you
for a long while....
“Ah, Sire, if you believe you owe so much to that proud English
people, do you owe nothing to your own good people in France, in
America, in India? But if your scruples are so delicate that you
have no desire to favor what may injure your enemies, how, Sire,
can you allow your subjects to contend with other European
powers, in conquering countries belonging to the poor Indians,
the African Savages or the Caribs who have never wronged you? How
can you allow your vessels to take by force and bind suffering
black men whom nature made free and who are only miserable
because you are powerful? How can you suffer three rival powers
to seize iniquitously upon and divide Poland under your very
eyes?...
“Were men angels, political ways might undoubtedly be disdained.
But if men were angels there would be no need of religion to
enlighten them, of laws to govern them, of magistrates to
restrain them, of soldiers to subdue them; and the earth instead
of being a faithful image of hell, would be indeed a celestial
abode. All we can do is to take men as they are, and the wisest
king can go no farther than the legislator Solon, who said: ‘I do
not give the Athenians the best laws, but only those adapted for
the place, the time and the people for whom I make them.’ ...
“I entreat you, Sire, in the name of your subjects, to whom you
owe your best efforts; in the name of that inward repose which
your Majesty so properly cherishes; in the name of the glory and
prosperity of a reign begun under such happy auspices; I entreat
you, Sire, not to be deceived by the brilliant sophism of a
false sensibility. _Summum jus, summa injuria._ This deplorable
excess of equity towards your enemies would be the most signal
injustice towards your subjects who soon suffer the penalty of
scruples out of place.
“I have treated the gravest questions summarily, for fear of
weakening my arguments by giving them greater extension, and
especially through fear of wearying the attention of Your
Majesty. If any doubts still remain, Sire, after reading what I
have presented to you, efface my signature, and have this attempt
copied by another hand, in order that the feebleness of the
reasoner may not diminish the force of the argument, and lay this
discussion before any man instructed by experience and knowledge
of worldly affairs; and if there is one, beginning with M. de
Vergennes, who does not agree with me, I close my mouth; ...
“Finally, Sire, I must confess to being so confounded by your
Majesty’s refusal, that, unable to find a better reason for it, I
conjecture that the negotiator is an obstacle to the success of
this important affair in the mind of Your Majesty. Sire, my own
interest is nothing, that of serving you is everything. Select
any man of probity, intelligence and discretion, who can be
relied upon; I will take him to England and make such efforts as
I hope will attain for him the same confidence that has been
awarded to myself. He shall conduct the affair to a successful
issue, while I will return and fall back into the quiet obscurity
from which I emerged, rejoicing in having at least begun an
affair of the greatest utility that any negotiator was ever
honored with.
“Caron de Beaumarchais.”
_Post Scriptum._
“It is absolutely impossible to give in writing all that relates
to this affair at bottom on account of the profound secrecy
which it requires, although it is extremely easy for me to
demonstrate the safety of the undertaking, the facility of doing,
the certainty of success, and the immense harvest of glory and
tranquillity which, Sire, this small grain of seed, sowed in
time, must give to your reign.
“May the guardian angel of this government incline the mind of
Your Majesty. Should he award us this first success, the rest
will take care of itself. I answer for it.”
Consider for a moment that the loyal subject who dared to write thus to
an absolute king, his master, was a civilly degraded man, incapable in
the eyes of the law of fulfilling any public function. It is the same
man to whom had been addressed several years previously, the famous
letter from some English admirer, which was inscribed “To Beaumarchais,
the only free man in France,” and it was delivered to him.
No special attention seems to have been paid to this memoir. At least no
outward sign was given; and Beaumarchais after waiting several days,
resorted to another measure. He addressed a letter to the King upon the
very inconsequent subject of the costume which the Chevalier D’Eon
should assume and the disposition that should be made of his man’s
attire. To such questions, at least, Louis XVI would not fear to give a
definite answer—perhaps he might be induced to take an additional step
and half unconsciously to decide weightier matters. The expedient was
worth a trial and Beaumarchais resorted to it. In writing the letter he
left a wide margin and humbly begged the King to write the answer
opposite each question.
“The autograph,” said Loménie, “is interesting. The body of the piece is
written in the hand of Beaumarchais and signed by him; the replies to
each question are traced in the margin, in a handwriting fine, but
uneven, weak, undecided, where the v’s and t’s are scarcely indicated.
It is the hand of the good, though weak and unhappy sovereign whom the
revolution was to devour seventeen years later.... Below is written and
signed in the hand of Vergennes, ‘All the additions are in the
handwriting of the King.’”
“Essential points which I implore M. de Vergennes to present for
the decision of the King to be replied to on the margin:
[Sidenote: In the provinces only.]
“Does the King accord the demoiselle d’Eon permission to wear her
cross of St. Louis on her woman’s attire?
[Sidenote: Yes.]
“Does His Majesty approve the gratification of 2000 pounds which I
allowed that demoiselle for her Trousseau?
[Sidenote: She must sell it.]
“Does His Majesty allow her the entire disposition of her man’s
attire?
* * * * *
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Good.]
“The King not being able to refuse a recognition in good form of
the papers which I have brought back from England, I have begged
M. de Vergennes, to implore His Majesty to add with his own hand,
several words showing his approval of the way in which I have
filled my mission. That recompense, the dearest to my heart, may
one day be of great utility to me....
[Sidenote: That you received none.]
“As the first person whom I will see in England is milord
Rochford, and as he is likely to ask me in secret the reply of
the King of France to the prayer which the King of England made
through me, what shall I reply?
[Sidenote: Perhaps.]
“If that lord wishes secretly to engage me to see the monarch
shall I accept or not?
[Sidenote: It is useless.]
“If that minister ... wishes to bring me into connection with other
ministers, or if the occasion in any way arises shall I accept or not?”
* * * * *
* * * * *
Finally Beaumarchais brought forward the demand for which the rest of
the letter is but a cloak, the one burning question for the answer of
which he had waited so long and in vain and to which Louis XVI still
made no reply:
“And now I ask before starting, the positive response to my last
memoir; but if ever question was important, it must be admitted
that it is this one. I answer on my head, after having well
reflected, for the most glorious success of this operation for
the entire reign of my master, without his person, or of that of
his ministers, or his interests being in the least compromised.
Can anyone of those who influence His Majesty against this
measure answer on his head to the King for the evil which will
infallibly come to France if it is rejected?
“In the case that we shall be so unhappy as that the King should
constantly refuse to adopt a plan so simple and so wise, I
implore His Majesty to permit me to take note for him of the date
when I arranged this superb resource, in order that one day he
may render me the justice due to my views, when it will only be
left to us bitterly to regret not having followed them.
“Caron de Beaumarchais.”
[Illustration: CHARLES GRAVIER—COMTE DE VERGENNES]
“The temerity of the secret agent,” says M. de Loménie, “in the end
prevailed over the prudence of the King; but for the moment ...
Beaumarchais was obliged to start for London knowing only that d’Eon
must sell his old clothes.”
For the moment the hopes of Beaumarchais seemed wholly shattered.
“Intrigues of the court,” said Doniol, “controlled the actions of M. de
Vergennes, and made him feel the danger. The minister was visibly the
butt of serious attacks, Beaumarchais was in consequence held at a
distance. Everything seemed to be compromised. He seized the occasion of
the new year to write to M. de Vergennes.
“January 1, 1776.
“Monsieur le comte:
“It is impossible to be so deeply touched as I am with your
favors without being very much so by your apparent coldness. I
have examined myself well, and I feel that I do not merit it. How
could you know that I had carried my zeal too far, if you do not
first enter with me into the details of what I have done or ought
to have done?
“Great experience with men, and the habit of misfortune, have
given me that watchful prudence, which makes me think of
everything and direct things according to the timid or courageous
character of those for whom I do them.”
Thus the year 1775 ended and the new year began with but little
encouragement for the agent of the King in the cause of America; but his
was a heart that did not easily lose courage. More than this, matters
were really advancing; the timid policy of the King and the objections
of the ministers began to give way to “the quiet and uniform influence
of M. de Vergennes, which imperceptibly overcame the scruples of the
inexperienced Prince, who never comprehended the far reaching influence
of the question.” (Bancroft—History of America, IV, p. 363.)