Beaumarchais and the War of American Independence, Vol. 2

by Elizabeth Sarah Kite

In spite of the remonstrances of Deane, Congress continued deaf and dumb in regard to their Commissioner, neither condemning nor approving his acts, but passing all by with like indifference. In the meantime, Beaumarchais was pushing forward his gigantic operations, being taken with “a sort of drunkenness of activity and of confidence in himself, which,” says Doniol, “turned him at times from precautions. He was at this juncture, really a political agent. He had indicated to M. de Maurepas a plan of finance which would enable France to arm itself, without increasing taxation, and the mission had been given him to study the execution of the plan with M. Necker, who had been called to the management of the Treasury. He had discussed with Deane, perhaps somewhat with Vergennes, the creation of a bank, in view of making loans on the lands of America.” (Doniol II, p. 57.)

Extracts from a Memoir by Beaumarchais, addressed to Vergennes, in regard to a loan to be made to the Congress: “Supposing always,” he wrote, “that your intention is neither to let America perish nor to force her to arrange with England through lack of the succor which is indispensable for her defense, if you can procure it; supposing also that my work and my ministry have not ceased to be agreeable to you; I have found a means of supporting the Americans without disbursing considerable sums, which you do not possess, but which the Americans cannot dispense with.

“If you look upon me as the important advocate of that nation before the Ministry of France,—an employment which I have assumed because it was as noble as it was useful to my country; knowing that I have not done this without your secret agreement, you must hear me to-day, even aid me, if you do not wish to leave without results a plan which is without danger.” After developing the details of his scheme for rendering more effective aid to the Americans, Beaumarchais continues, “As you see, M. le Comte, this is only an extension adroitly given, to that which I have been doing for the last year. For the past two weeks I have been buried in the meditations and the correspondence which this work requires. To-day I am in condition to treat secretly with you and M. de Maurepas. Any evening which you wish, I will attend upon your orders.”

Things were moving, however, far too slowly for the impatient spirit of Beaumarchais. The 14th of October he had written to Vergennes.

“Every time that I think how we hold in our hands the destiny of the world, and that we have the power to change the system of things—and when I see so many advantages, so much glory ready to escape, I regret infinitely not to have more influence over the resolutions of the councils, and not to be able to multiply myself, so as to prevent the evil on one hand, and aid the good on the other. I know too well your patriotism to fear offending you in speaking thus....

“I expect to be at Fontainebleau Thursday at the latest. Until then I shall not sleep until I have finished the work on Finance, promised to M. de Maurepas.”

Obstacles of every kind were being thrown in the path of Beaumarchais, though he remained ignorant of their source. He continued to insist that the government permit him to carry forward what it had encouraged him to commence. His letters of this period testify to “a consciousness of being hampered, a desire to act, fear of being too presumptive in his demands, and intentions of rendering effective service.” (Doniol II, p. 58.) He thought the delays came from Maurepas, whose coldness had distressed him, so he urged Vergennes to plead for him. “If I were not certain,” he wrote, November 12, 1776, “that I do not displease you in desiring you to raise as far as possible the obstacles which retard my course, I would not have the indiscretion to make observations when it seems I ought simply to submit. But I know that you are as much annoyed as I by all that tends to spoil my plans. This idea consoles me and enables me not to lose patience....” “Do not,” he pleads, “do not, M. le Comte, look upon my impatience as insubordination, it is nothing but zeal.” Then he proceeded to urge Vergennes to send him an order through the minister of war, the Comte de St. Germain, that there be delivered to him 2,000 hundredweight of powder, which would enable him to set sail, and he ended by saying how he had “le cœur bien serré to see how things are going or in reality, not going.”

The fall of New York offered an opportunity for Beaumarchais to press his solicitations, urging that the Americans had been beaten only from lack of supplies. “If I were asking a personal favor,” he wrote to Vergennes, “I would have patience, but I shall lose it if you do not come to my assistance.” On the second of October he had written: “Everything about me follows me with talk and does all that it can to ruin me. Across all these bitter things I walk with assurance to my ends; unless a pistol shot stops me, I will be found ready to treat with all who present themselves. My zeal and my disinterestedness are the basis of my defense. I have no important paper about me—everything is secure.”

In the midst of so many hidden dangers Beaumarchais was soon made to feel a still graver one. The French government suddenly began to thwart all his operations, and this without a word of warning or explanation. The fact was that the suspicions of the Court of St. James had been thoroughly aroused, and, pressed by the English Ambassador, the minister had been forced to take a stand. The fifteenth of November the English Court notified the Spanish Ambassador that everything was known, and the twenty-second of the same month, they expressed themselves still more strongly through other avenues. Vergennes was informed that the aid being rendered by France was no longer a secret. Something had to be done immediately to allay the fears of the English, and from this had arisen the apparent hostility of the ministers.

Even had there been no one directly to blame for these disclosures, entire secrecy still could not have been maintained. The very multiplicity of the operations, “the goings and comings of Deane and Beaumarchais and their intermediaries, the confidence that was inspired by the support of the government leading to indiscretions, all this divulged the acts.” (Doniol II, 35.) More than this, officers enrolled, or those who wished to be, were spread about in the cafés and public places, in Paris or the seaports, awaiting the moment of embarkation. All these men, “infatuated and needy,” were under the control of du Coudray, who was expecting to sail on the largest of Beaumarchais’s ships, l’Amphitrite, a vessel of 480 tons, which already had received its cargo, and was only awaiting the presence of the officer in order to set sail. For some unaccountable reason, he had returned to Versailles without giving any notice. He remained there for more than a week, causing a delay which threatened to spoil everything. Beaumarchais, supposing that the ministry was at fault, wrote to Vergennes in the following impatient manner: “Everything has gone, everything is waiting. Why cannot I have the whole management of the affair? Then nothing would be delayed and my vessels would already be in America.” The truth was that du Coudray, relying upon his powerful support at court, had gone to Versailles in order to succeed in escaping if possible from the hands of Beaumarchais, so as not to go over as his envoy. He had all along been lengthening “by every means in his power the delay in getting off, had sown discontent among the enrolled, sending away such as he could not gain, had encouraged complaint, confided the place of embarkation to indiscreet persons, and then threw upon Beaumarchais the blame of the noise which he himself had made.” (Doniol II, 61.) In addition to all the rest, Beaumarchais was guilty of a particular indiscretion of his own. Having gone the 6th of December, 1776, to Havre, under the assumed name of Durand, in order to superintend, without arousing suspicion, the despatching of three of his vessels, the Amphitrite, La Seine, La Romaine, he could not resist the temptation of busying himself at the same time with his literary productions. Displeased with the way in which his famous comedy, Le Barbier de Séville, was being performed, he imprudently collected the actors, making them rehearse the play under his direction. His presence in the seaport thus became known; the English Ambassador was notified and the latter at once addressed to the Government the most vehement remonstrances.