IN HOLLAND AND FRANCE
For two months now Captain Conyngham and Jonathan Nesbit, a nephew
of Mr. James Nesbit, of Philadelphia, had been in Holland purchasing
supplies and outfitting the Peggy, after her safe arrival, for her
return voyage to America. They found, however, that the difficulties
were greater than they had imagined. Although the cargo had been placed
on board, at least the greater part of it, so closely were the Dutch
ports watched, and those of France also, that it was almost impossible
for any American vessel to set sail for home without word being sent
to the English cruisers hovering on the coast of the time for sailing,
and many prizes had they taken within a few miles of the harbor mouth.
The towns and seaports were full of spies. Both France and Holland
were then at peace with England, and English vessels were leaving and
entering almost every day, so the naval authorities were well informed
of doings elsewhere. Another difficulty also had presented itself in
that the stores which had been placed on board the Charming Peggy
were evidently munitions of war, and the Dutch Government had been
complained to by the English consul, and therefore the little brig was
under a strict surveillance. If she had been a faster sailer Captain
Conyngham would have taken advantage, on two or three occasions,
of the thick and stormy weather that had prevailed. Once he had
slipped his cable, but an English armed sloop near him had done the
same and had followed him almost to the open water, where, seeing it
was impossible to escape, Conyngham had turned and gone back to his
anchorage.
So strong now were the remonstrances of the English representative,
that the Dutch custom officials confiscated the Peggy, and she was
brought into court. To save themselves a total loss, her cargo was
resold at a great discount by Nesbit and Conyngham, and the Peggy
herself was disposed of to a Dutch shipping house.
And now Captain Conyngham found himself stranded, like many another
American shipmaster, on the shores of a foreign country. His active
spirit chafed at the enforced idleness, but week after week passed,
and he saw no chance of getting away. But great things had happened in
America since his departure, and great things were soon to happen in
Europe.
The Declaration of Independence had been signed and heralded to the
world. A small fleet had been organized, and it was rumored that
vessels of war were building in the home ports to go out and fight
the English on the high seas. Stronger and stronger grew the ambition
in Conyngham’s heart to get into active service. He grew almost
despondent, however, as the time dragged on.
It was difficult even to obtain news, and the uncertainty of what
was happening at home made his position more galling. At last one
day the information was brought by post from Paris to The Hague that
two American vessels of war--the Reprisal, commanded by a Captain
Wickes, and a smaller vessel, the Lexington--had arrived in France;
but, better news than all that, Dr. Benjamin Franklin had reached the
capital itself armed with credentials from the American Congress to act
as Minister Plenipotentiary and Extraordinary to the French court.
For a long time a plan had been in Captain Conyngham’s mind, the
feasibility of which, granting that certain obstacles were removed,
tempted him strongly. There were enough American sailormen, of good
fighting stock, hanging idly about French and Dutch ports of entry, to
man a small squadron. Why was it not possible to fit out one vessel at
least and sail into the highway of British commerce? The risk would
be great, the rewards would be tremendous, and the advantages to the
American cause, if the project was successful, past reckoning. All
it required was money and a starting place. It would be necessary,
no doubt, from the very first to arrange matters with the immediate
authorities in order to have them wink at the proceeding, and to do
this, back of the whole idea, there must lurk that important word,
authority.
Any ship’s captain who sailed on his own account and made prizes in
the English Channel, would get no mercy if he once fell into the hands
of the enemy. But even without the authority Captain Conyngham was
eager to take the risk, if a vessel could be procured and he could find
others to join him.
Shortly after the news reached him at The Hague of Franklin’s arrival,
he left Holland and sailed as passenger in a Dutch coaster to Dunkirk,
and there, the very night of his arrival, he met with a man who was to
have a great influence in his further doings.
Messrs. Hodge, Allan, and Ross were three Americans, part factors,
part merchants, who were in France at the time of the breaking out of
war between America and the mother country.
In the earlier months before the English had begun their very strict
watching of the foreign ports, they had managed to send out some small
and miscellaneous cargoes of supplies. Latterly, however, they had been
unsuccessful, but with the arrival of Franklin and the appointment as
commissioners of Mr. Arthur Lee and Mr. Silas Deane, the latter a New
England merchant well known to them, a better prospect seemed to dawn.
The Reprisal had brought in with her three English vessels, all
merchantmen, the first prizes to be brought into the ports of a foreign
country. The English ambassador, Lord Stormont, had raised a dreadful
row at the French court over this proceeding, and it was rumored that
the American vessels and their prizes would be forced to quit the
French harbors.
It was just at this time that Conyngham landed at Dunkirk, having come
down by sea from Holland in a Dutch packet. He had hardly set foot on
French shore when he met a Mr. Thomas Ross, whom he had known as a
supercargo on one of his earlier voyages into the Mediterranean. It was
years since they had seen one another, but Mr. Ross remembered him at
once.
“Well, indeed, Conyngham, this is a surprise!” he cried, shaking hands,
after the young captain had accosted him. “And what are you doing here?”
“Fretting my head off,” was the reply. “Sure, it is a piece of ill
fortune for a man like myself to be idle when there is so much that he
would like to do. But before we talk of our own private grievances or
affairs, tell me of the news. What has Dr. Franklin accomplished, and
what prospects are there that France will do anything for us?”
“We’re all in the fog, as you sailors would say,” returned Mr. Ross.
“But there are some prospects. The army at home has done as well as can
be expected, although the British have possession yet of many places,
including New York. But come,” he added, “you must join me to-night
at supper. We’re expecting our friend Hodge down from Paris, and my
brother and Mr. Allan. They can tell you much of importance. Mr. Hodge
was to see Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Deane was to speak for all of us.
There will be work here and plenty for good men, if I’m not out in my
reckoning. The French as a nation have no love for England, nor has
the king, if rumor speaks rightly, and a few big successes on our part
may sway the ministry into action, for mark me, my friend, the common
people are seldom wrong, and their voice is the heart-beat of the
nation.”
“By the Powers,” rejoined Conyngham, “but you talk like a book. Is it a
speech you have been preparing to convince the king?”
Ross laughed.
“I know of one king that was never convinced by speeches,” he returned,
“and that’s the one who sits there across the water.”
“Ah, there’s one thing that will convince him,” returned Conyngham
softly and dropping, as he often did, into the very richest of brogues.
“Whisht, my lad, and that’s cannon-balls and straight shooting.”
“You’re right, Friend Conyngham,” answered Ross. “But there is one
thing more that is necessary--supplies and ships--and a truth must be
acknowledged: Europe must recognize us as a nation. Three or four big
victories on our part would turn the scale. But more of this to-night
when we meet. You will find me at my lodgings, there in that little
gray house on the corner, the one with the sloping roof, at five
o’clock, and we will go to a little tavern that I know of that is kept
by a Frenchman we can trust. Don’t fail me.”
“I will be on hand,” returned Conyngham, and the two men parted.
At six o’clock that evening, in the little front room of the
Chanticlear Tavern, there were five men seated about the table. The
conversation, that had first been of home affairs and the discussion of
the latest news from the army--the battles of Trenton and Princeton and
Washington’s doings--soon turned to matters nearer at hand. Mr. Hodge,
a strong-featured, red-faced man of a traditional John Bull appearance,
sat between the two Ross brothers. After the waiter had left and they
were all alone he began to talk, and his audience resolved themselves
into the most eager listeners.
Conyngham had told his story of the capture of the prize crew, and
the recital had at once placed him as one who was worthy of every
confidence, and before whom everything could be said openly.
“You’d have laughed,” went on Mr. Hodge, continuing the story of his
trip to Paris, “to have heard the good doctor describe his arrival in
Paris. As yet he has not been received openly at court, but that will
all come in due time. Nevertheless, the number of fine names and titles
and high personages whom he has met would make quite a bill of lading.
You see Lord Stormont, the English ambassador, has his suspicions.
He would be a dolt if he hadn’t. And the Count de Vergennes, the
king’s Prime Minister, has his also, but the latter’s are the harder
to guess. I don’t exactly understand the Frenchman,” continued Mr.
Hodge. “He’s a bit too deep for me, and whether or not he is blowing
hot and cold to save time, or whether he is really anxious in the end
to be of service to us, is more than I can answer for. My own idea of
it is that he has but one idea in his head, and that is France, and
that he would see our country swamped and ruined if he could further
France’s interest in the slightest degree. He realizes, no doubt, that
in England’s troubles and difficulties lie France’s opportunities, and
that the more she is weakened and distressed, the easier it will be
for France when the war comes; for, mark my words, the temper of the
French people can not long be restrained, and sooner or later England
and this country will be at each other’s throats. But, nevertheless,
gentlemen, it is well worth our time to keep a wary eye on M. le Comte
de Vergennes, and mind his doings carefully. But I have digressed. I
was speaking of Franklin--he told me that Lord Stormont had objected to
his coming to Paris at all, and said that ‘if this arch-rebel reaches
the city I will away home with me, bag and baggage.’ ‘All right,’ says
de Vergennes, ‘anything to please your excellency! We will despatch
a messenger to stop him.’ And so a messenger was sent to meet the
diligence by which ‘Goodman Richard’ was coming into Paris, but the
messenger took the wrong road and never met the doctor, and the first
thing you know Lord Stormont hears that the ‘arch-traitor’ has arrived.
‘Heavens, mercy me!’ exclaims de Vergennes, when his lordship calls
upon him. ‘How could it have happened? I will speak strongly to this
fool of a messenger. I will admonish him.’ ‘But what are you going to
do about it?’ insists Lord Stormont. ‘What can we do?’ returns Monsieur
le Comte. ‘You can not expect us to be uncivil! Surely it is no one but
an old gentleman who flies kites and writes almanacs, and we Frenchmen
have a reputation for politeness to sustain. We can not ask him to
leave without ceremony. It is not our way.’ So there he is,” continued
Mr. Hodge, “hob-nobbing with lords and ladies and what not, and
thinking great things in that great head of his; making arrangements
with Beaumarchais, who is our friend with good interest now. Oh, such a
man!” Mr. Hodge interrupted his long speech by throwing back his head
and laughing heartily.
“Beaumarchais? Beaumarchais? I’ve heard the name,” interrupted
Conyngham. “But who is he?”
“The most interesting and fantastic of creatures,” replied Mr. Hodge.
“A man whose career sounds like the invention of the romancer. His real
name is Caron, and he is but the son of a watchmaker, whose timepieces
are celebrated. I believe that he himself was brought up to follow his
father’s trade, but playing the harp attracted him more than adjusting
springs and balance-wheels, and he became an instructor and harpist at
the court. Being a man of parts besides of harps, and a natural born
courtier, he soon made his way and became one of the petted favorites
despite his lowly birth. A consummate Jack of all trades. He is the
author of plays, two of which I have had the pleasure of seeing--‘The
Barber of Seville’ and ‘The Marriage of Figaro.’ The king and the queen
trust him implicitly, and he has the ear of most of the noblemen,
though some of them dislike him and fear his sharp wits.”
“I met him once,” interrupted Mr. Allan, “at Nantes--a quietly dressed,
smooth-spoken, business-like fellow.”
“Then you don’t know him at court,” laughed Mr. Hodge, “for there he is
an exquisite, and can flutter his laces and make his bow with the best
of them. He has a hundred sides, and can change color like a chameleon.”
“He is a good friend of America and a hater of England,” remarked
the elder Ross. “If he had his way, Lord Stormont would be packed
off to London, bag and baggage, and there would be no more of this
dissembling. He knows the temper of the people, and has his finger on
the national pulse.”
“I wish that he had his fingers in the national purse,” laughed his
brother, “for the good doctor is not overburdened with money.”
The entrance of the landlord here interrupted the conversation, but
as soon as he disappeared Mr. Hodge, who had been doing a great deal
of thinking, and had paid little attention to the steaming ragoût,
followed him to the door and closed it firmly. Then, coming back to the
table, he leaned over his chair and in a low but eager voice addressed
the company.
“We’re all Americans here,” he said, “and Captain Conyngham’s recital
of his own mission and adventures proves his discretion, and so,
gentlemen--a secret.” He paused and his eyes swept around the table.
“The money will be forthcoming, and if I make no mistake there will be
plenty of it.”
“Surely the Count de Vergennes, and Necker while he has charge of the
purse-strings, will disgorge little,” said Mr. Allan dubiously.
“The Prime Minister is a deep one,” replied Mr. Hodge. “It pays to keep
both eyes on him. He would use America as a cat’s-paw, I have no doubt;
but nevertheless he sees in the success of our cause the way to stab
England deeply. Beaumarchais, with the help of the rest, will prove a
match for him.”
“But you are digressing,” remarked the younger Ross, who had spoken
little up to this time. “How are we to get the arms and munitions?”
“We shall see,” answered Hodge, smiling wisely. “The French Government
doesn’t wish to commit itself at present, and as a nation will offer
us no direct or open aid, but there is nothing to prevent a private
company or corporation from advancing money on its own responsibility,
if it assumes the risk, and there lies the secret, to which you
gentlemen, I know, will consider yourselves pledged from this minute.
Have you heard of Hortalez et Cie. of Paris? It is a new name, and one
as yet unknown in commercial circles, but mark me, some day history
will record it, and we Americans shall have good cause not to forget
it.”
“And who composes this new firm?” asked Mr. Ross.
“That,” replied Mr. Hodge, “is more than I can answer. But they say
that Beaumarchais could tell all about it, and the shareholders have
noble names. Even royalty has invested, and there is plenty of money
behind the new name.”
“Be more outspoken,” suggested Mr. Allan. “Who is Hortalez?”
“Hortalez,” answered Mr. Hodge, “and this under pledge of secrecy,
gentlemen, is none other than Beaumarchais himself, and Beaumarchais is
the court.”
For an instant there was silence, and the five men looked at one
another without saying a word. Then it was Conyngham who spoke.
“Mr. Hodge,” he said, “what you have told me opens the way at once to
something that I intended to speak of before this company here at the
table. In every port in France, and even in Holland, there are scores
of American seamen lying idle because of the embargo that has been
placed upon our shipping. They’re eager, every one of them, to strike a
blow against the enemy. With money, and brains to direct its disposal,
the matter would be easy. There is the Channel filled with British
shipping before us. We are here on this side of the water. I have in
my mind a long-fostered idea that is easy of accomplishment, and that
would promise big returns if successfully set on foot.”
“Your idea, Captain Conyngham,” answered Mr. Hodge, “might not be hard
to guess, and let me tell you that it has already been spoken of. By
the way,” he added, “I start to-morrow morning for Paris. Will you not
accompany me thither, for I think that Dr. Franklin may have something
to say to you.”
Conyngham’s face flushed with excited pleasure, as he reached across
the table and struck his palm into that of Mr. Hodge.
“I am with you,” he cried, “mind, soul, and body.”
As the party broke up to go they halted at the door. The elder Ross
placed his hand on Conyngham’s shoulder.
“You are the man we have been looking for,” he said in a whisper, “the
very man.”
“Hold, gentlemen,” whispered Mr. Hodge, softly, “what we have spoken
of here this evening we will consider buried in the catacombs of
our memory, and it would be better,” he suggested, “if we should
meet Captain Conyngham elsewhere to be as strangers to him. Is it so
understood?”
The rest nodded, and they passed out into the hallway, at the end of
which the smiling landlord greeted them and bowed them out into the
street.