“Things were at this pass when the committee of public safety informed Beaumarchais that he must secure the arms, or else prevent their falling into the hands of the English; failing which his family and goods in default of his person would answer for the success of the operation.” And so, early in June, 1793, again he left France on this most difficult mission.
“To enter into all the details of his interminable tours et détours, going from Amsterdam to Basle, from Basle to Hamburg, from Hamburg to London ... all which he directed like a very ingenious intrigue de comédie ... would be too long. He was able to keep the guns at Tervère and when the moment seemed to him favorable, he supplicated the committee of public safety with loud cries, to order the General Pichegru to come and carry off the guns; but the committee absorbed by a thousand things made no reply.... The only missive he ever received from them was the following, dated, 5 pluviose, An II (January 26, 1794), written by Robert Lindet, ‘You must be quick, do not await events. If you defer too long, your service will not be appreciated. Great returns are necessary and they must be prompt. It is of no use to calculate the difficulties, we consider only results and success.’”
“Not only,” continues Loménie, “did the Committee abandon Beaumarchais to himself, but with a thoughtlessness which is another sign of the times, they allowed their agent to be put upon the lists as an émigré, which act entailed the confiscation of his property.
“Madame de Beaumarchais went at once to the committee of public safety, explained that her husband was not an émigré, since he had left the territory of the republic because of an official mission, and provided with a regular passport, and her proof in her hand, she succeeded in having the decree withdrawn and the seals removed from the property. Beaumarchais had at this time taken refuge in Hamburg.
“He found himself,” says Loménie, “in the most cruel situation both materially and morally. He knew that the revolutionary tribunal was fixed permanently at Paris, that it struck without pity mothers, wives, and daughters of the absent ones, and that the bloody knife never ceased to fall. The unfortunate man was in torture. Eugénie tried to comfort her father in the unconscious tranquillity of a young girl. Every precaution had been taken to hide from her the horrible tragedy which was being enacted about her; she presented a striking contrast with the terrible reality of the times.
“She walked alone and melancholy in the lovely garden, while the dismal car passed along the terrace perhaps. But in her sad dreaming, she did not turn her head; she admired the earliest advances of spring. On March 11th, she wrote to her father,
“‘The verdure of our trees is beginning to appear, the leaves develop from day to day, and flowers already beautify thy garden. It would be very lovely, if we could walk here with thee. Thy presence would add a charm to everything which surrounds us. There is no happiness for me but what thou partakest in. We are only happy through thee, oh my tender father!’”
The very next day measures were taken which ended in the annulling of the decree rendered by the comité de salut public in which the comité de sûreté générale, which had taken its place, once more declared Beaumarchais to be an émigré, replaced the seals upon his property, confiscated his revenues and on the 5th of July, 1794, arrested his wife, his two sisters, and his daughter.
They were shut up in the convent of Port-Royal which had been changed into a prison and which, says Loménie, “by an atrocious irony was called Port-Libre, where they waited their turn to mount the fatal cart that should conduct them to the guillotine.” The ninth thermidore came to put an end to these butcheries. Eleven days later, another decree of the comité de sûreté générale, again established, gave to the Citoyennes Caron their liberty.
During this frightful period of the terror, Beaumarchais, still at Hamburg, deprived of all communication with his family, was a prey to the most terrible mental agony. His correspondence shows that he had moments of the deepest despair when he asked himself if he were not losing his mind.