The third course open to France, “the noblest of all,” was to declare to the English in a manifesto which should be announced at the same time to the other potentates of Europe, that the King of France, after having, through delicacy and regard to England, long remained a passive spectator of the war existing between England and America, to the great disadvantage and injury of French Commerce; “that conditions being so and so,” which he proceeded to clearly define, “His Majesty obliged by circumstances to decide upon some definite course ... and not wishing to declare war against England, nor to insult her ... His Majesty contents himself with declaring that he will hold the Americans for independent, and desires to regard them as such from henceforward, relatively to their commerce with France, and the commerce of France with them.”...
“After drawing up his manifesto, Beaumarchais entered into the exposition of the measures to take, and discussed the shades of opinion of each minister exactly as though he had been part of the council.... It is not one of the least singularities of the times to see the author of the Barbier de Séville deliberating as it were with the ministers, saying ‘I would do’ and putting himself naïvely in the place of the King of France.” (Loménie, II, p. 160.)
It was early in December that news of the surrender of Burgoyne reached Europe. “The joy of the news of Saratoga brought Beaumarchais to Passy, in spite of the bitter griefs which he had against the Commissioners.” (Doniol II, 646.) The same day he wrote to Vergennes:
“December 5, 1777.
“Monsieur le Comte:
“... Yesterday I was at Passy with the courier who arrived from Congress, and I passed the morning in comforting my heart with the excellent news of which we had that moment received the announcements.
“I came back to Paris, bringing M. Grand in a light carriage with a postillion and two horses. The carelessness of my postillion ... caused us to be overturned.... Mr. Grand had his shoulder broken; the violence of the fall made me bleed profusely at the nose and mouth;—a piece of broken glass entered my right arm—the negro who followed was badly hurt. See me then prostrated, but more ill in mind than body ... it is not the postillion who kills me, but M. de Maurepas. Nevertheless the charming news from America is a balance to my soul.... I am the voice which cries from the depths of my bed, ‘De profundis clamavi ad te Domine; Domine exaudi orationem meam.’ Although you received the Gazette of Boston yesterday, I will send you the extract which I myself made to insert in le Courrier d’Europe. It is just that I give them in England by my phrases all the poniard thrusts which their Ambassador gives me here with his. I salute you, respect and cherish you, and will sign, if I can with my wounded arm, the assurance of the unalterable devotion with which I am, etc.
“Beaumarchais.”
Two days later, he wrote: