Beaumarchais and the War of American Independence Volume I Part 7

As can be imagined, the affair made a great stir in Madrid. The influence of the friends of Clavico on the one hand, and on the other, the strong recommendations of the French Amba.s.sador, who took the matter seriously in hand, finally induced the family after several weeks of indecision on their part and of pleading on that of Clavico, to hush the matter by accepting a new alliance. The affair once settled, Beaumarchais, true to his character of doing wholeheartedly whatever he undertook, became at once the warm friend and confidant of Clavico, lent him money, entered heartily into his schemes of advancement, so that the two were constantly seen together. After a short period of this friendship, so sincere on the part of Beaumarchais, imagine his surprise to suddenly find that the cunning Clavico had all along been secretly plotting his ruin and was now on the brink of having him arrested and thrown into prison.

Furious at last, Beaumarchais no longer hesitated in wreaking his vengeance upon his perfidious adversary; he rushed to court, made the whole matter thoroughly known, and the king, having entered into the merits of the case, decided against Clavico whom he discharged from his service and who was obliged to take refuge in a convent outside of Madrid.

From this retreat he addressed a pleading letter to Beaumarchais imploring his commiseration. The latter in speaking of it says, ?He was right to count upon it, I hated him no longer, in fact I never in my life hated anyone.?

Before going farther, it may be of interest to note that this same Clavico survived Beaumarchais a number of years, dying in Madrid in 1806. He seems to have succeeded in making his way in the world in spite of his temporary loss of favor, and also, to quote Lom?nie, ?after having seen himself immolated during life in the open theater, by Goethe, as a melodramatic scoundrel.? He translated Buffon into Spanish and died editor of the _Historical and Political Mercury_ and vice-director of the Cabinet of Natural History of Madrid.

As might be expected the news of Beaumarchais?s way of settling the Spanish matter, caused no less joy to the family in France, than to that in Madrid. On June 6th, 1764, his father wrote to him: ?How deliciously I feel the honor, my dear Beaumarchais, of having such a son, whose actions crown so gloriously the end of my career. I see at a glance all the good that will result for the honor of my dear Lisette from the generous action which you have performed in her favor. I receive by the same post two letters from the charming Countess (the Countess of Fuen-Clara, one of the patronesses of the _p?re_ Caron, watchmaker) one to me and the other to Julie, so beautiful and touching, so full of tender expressions for me, and honorable for you, that you will have no less pleasure than I when you read them. You have enchanted her; she never tires of dwelling upon the pleasure it gives her to know you, or the desire she has of being useful to you, or the joy it gives her to see how all the Spanish approve and praise your action with Clavico; she could not be more delighted if you were her own son. Adieu, my dear Beaumarchais, my honor, the joy of my heart; receive a thousand embraces from the kindest of fathers and the best of friends.

Caron.?

There is also a letter extant from the abb? de Malespine to the elder Caron. He wrote: ?I have read and re-read, Monsieur, the account which has been sent you from Spain. I am overwhelmed with joy at all that it contains. Monsieur your son is a real hero. I see in him the most brilliantly gifted of men and the tenderest of brothers; honor, firmness, everything shines out in his proceedings with Clavico.?

When this affair which had occupied him so intensely for almost six weeks was definitely settled, Beaumarchais seems to have given it no further consideration, but to have turned his attention to the business negotiations with which he was charged, and to the life of gaiety and pleasure which his brilliant gifts opened to him. In speaking of this period, Lom?nie says, ?Scarcely arrived at Madrid, we see him plunging into the whirlpool of industrial enterprises, pleasures, festivals, gallantries, of music and of song, which was his element. He is in the flower of his age; all his esprit, all his imagination, all his gaiety, in a word all his faculties, are at the highest point of their development.?

Soon we find him writing to his father, ?I follow my affairs with a determination which you know me to possess; but all business between the French and the Spanish is hard to bring to success. I shall have long details to give you when I get back to warm myself at your fire. I work, I write, I confer, I draw up doc.u.ments, that is my life. I promise you that whether I succeed or not in all that I have undertaken, I will at least bring with me the esteem of all those in this country with whom I have to deal. Take care of your health and believe that my greatest happiness will be to enable you to share whatever good comes to me.?

A little later he wrote, ?I am now at the flower of my age. It is for me to work and for you to repose yourself. I may perhaps be able to relieve you entirely from all your engagements. To this object I devote all my energy. I will not tell you all now, but understand that I shall not go to sleep over the project which I have always had in my mind to put you on a level with all that is about you. Take care of yourself, my dear father, and live. The moment will come when you will be able to enjoy your old age, free from debts, and satisfied with your children. I have just had your son-in-law appointed paid engineer to the king. If you receive news of me from any inhabitant of Madrid they will say, your son amuses himself like a king; he pa.s.ses all his evenings at the Russian Amba.s.sador?s,--with my lady Rochford; he dines four times a week with the Commander of the engineers, and drives with six mules all about Madrid; then he goes to the _sitio real_ to see M. de Grimaldi and other Ministers. He takes one meal a day at the French amba.s.sador?s so that his stay is not only charming, but very inexpensive. All this is true as far as amus.e.m.e.nts go,--but you must not suppose that I neglect my business. I attend to every detail myself. It is in the high society for which I was born that I find the means which I require--and when you see what I have written, you will admit that I have not been walking but running toward my goal.?

One of the chief enterprises which Beaumarchais had undertaken was the establishment of a Louisiana Company modeled on that of the British East India Company, which had for its object the securing for France the right to trade in that territory for the next thirty years.

He had a project for the colonization of the Sierra Morena Mountains in Spain, a third for the introduction of a new and more practical method of providing the army with the necessary supplies; then there were innumerable minor schemes for the improvement of agriculture, commerce, industry, and things generally in Spain. Upon all of these subjects, he addresses innumerable memoirs to the Spanish ministers, and, in a word, does his utmost to infuse some of his own energy into that unenterprising nation. Although he almost succeeds in stirring things into a semblance of life, yet it will not be thought surprising when we consider the nation with which he had to deal, that notwithstanding his a.s.siduous efforts, many of his projects failed completely, and others met with but partial success.

There is a lengthy letter given by Lom?nie addressed by Beaumarchais to his father in which the son goes into minute details about his project for supplying the Spanish army with provisions. It shows, amongst other things, his mastery of calculation on a gigantic scale, and that no enterprise was too vast for his comprehensive intellect.

True to the dictates of his generous soul, here as elsewhere, it is the thought of the ease and comfort which he will be enabled to give to those dear to him that fills his heart with gladness. Still to his father he wrote: ?I finish, my dear father, by recommending the care of your health as the most precious thing that I have in this world and I reiterate the tender and respectful attachment with which I have the honor of being, Monsieur and very dear father, your very humble and very obedient servitor and affectionate son, Beaumarchais.? ... (Then in postscript) ?I might be able to find ten days that I would employ with a rare satisfaction in procuring you a consultation with M. Tronchon so as to get at the bottom of your malady. This idea consoles me in advance. It may be that before I go to Lyons, I shall pa.s.s by Paris, in which case I will take you with me and the rest will follow of itself. Your health becomes more and more dear to me, as I feel myself able to augment your satisfaction by my advancement and by the care that I will give to render your old age agreeable in procuring comfort for all those who are dear to you.?

But to return to the social life which Beaumarchais was leading at Madrid.

We have spoken already of his distaste for card playing. Lom?nie gives a very characteristic letter of Beaumarchais to his sister Julie, where he paints with rare force and vividness of coloring the scene about a _table de jeu_ in the salon of the Russian Amba.s.sador. The center of the life and movement is naturally himself. With his usual frankness he writes to Julie, ?Evenings we have cards or music and then supper, of all of which I seem to be the soul. The society has been increased by all the Amba.s.sadors, who before my arrival lived rather isolated. They say now they have charming evenings because I am there.? Then follows a vivid description of the mad playing which ends by Beaumarchais?s lending this time, not thirty louis, but two hundred and thirty, besides three hundred and fifty which he had gained at the play, but which were not forthcoming.

The debtors in this case were the Russian Amba.s.sador and his wife. As Beaumarchais was now winning he rose and refused to play any longer. The Amba.s.sador and his wife who were excited over their losses, failed in their duties as host and hostess; the matter made a good deal of noise and for ten days coolness reigned in all the social life of Madrid, Beaumarchais vowing that he had played for the last time. During the whole affair he carried himself with so much dignity and showed so much moderation that he won great credit among all the Princes and Amba.s.sadors of that high society. Finally the matter was adjusted, the joyful evenings recommenced, but with grand music instead of cards, and Beaumarchais adds: ?Word of honor, let no one ever speak to me of playing again, let us amuse ourselves with other things which do not entail such serious consequences.? And a little further on, ?the friendship is stronger than ever; b.a.l.l.s, concerts, but no more cards. I have written some French words to a Spanish air that is very much admired; I have had two hundred copies made. I will save one to send with the music of the one I sent to my father. Good night, I will write Tuesday to my Pauline and her aunt.?

But not only the Russian Amba.s.sador rejoiced in the pleasure of the intimate friendship of Beaumarchais, but also--in the words of Lom?nie: ?Lord Rochford dotes upon him, goes to the Prado with him, sups with him, sings duets with him and becomes astonishingly jovial for an English diplomat.

?But this is not all his life at the Capital. In the midst of his industrial enterprises and his aristocratic pleasures, the future author of the _Barbier de S?ville_ appears to be continually occupied with his humble family, now displaying a rare tact and without compromising his patrician bearing to force great ladies at Madrid to pay the bills which they had long owed the elder Caron; and with fraternal bonhomie, entering into all the details of the life of his sisters at home, or leaving the salons of the Capital for the modest dwelling of his sisters at Madrid.?

That he was not ashamed of their station in life is admirably shown by the following letter addressed to his father. He wrote: ?I have seen Drouillet (a French banker established in Madrid). He and his wife called soon after my arrival, but I have not entered into their society although Drouillet is himself an estimable man. The reason I have kept away is the ridiculous airs of his wife, who because she possesses a few more _?cus_ than your daughters considers herself above them. She has tried to attract me there by attentions and invitations of every sort but never mentioned my sisters, which made me reply that I was making too short a stay in Madrid to give my time to any but my family. It is the same everywhere, this ridiculous feeling belongs to every country. There are here great and little France. My sisters are too well brought up to belong to the latter and they are not considered rich enough to be admitted to the former, so that the visits of the Drouillets were for me alone; at which Monsieur your son, took the liberty of putting Madame Drouillet in her place; and so she says that I am _malin_. You know what that means, my dear father, and whether there is malice in seeing things clearly and then in saying what one thinks.?

In relation to the debtors of the elder Caron at Madrid, allusions frequently occur in the letters. For instance, the father writes, ?I see what you have done and what you are doing among my debtors from whom I would never have drawn a farthing but for you.? At another time Beaumarchais writes, ?I am in a way to receive payment from all of your grandees--their self esteem is so mixed up with it that I think I shall manage to get all they owe you. My letters to them are polite but proud.

The duke and d.u.c.h.ess do not seem to want to be under any obligation to me, fearing that I will boast of it and that the length of the credit will be divulged. Let me manage it in my own way.?

Here is a sample of his manner of approaching these creditors of his father. ?Knowing that a number of idle people do me the honor of disturbing themselves regarding the motives of my stay in Spain, it has seemed to me my duty to tranquilize them by employing my time in soliciting the debts of my house. In consequence I have the honor to demand of your excellency the permission?--here follows a statement of the debt owed to the elder Caron. One of these individuals of quality thus addressed being in no way anxious to pay, revenged herself by trying to show up Beaumarchais as an adventurer. Immediately the latter wrote home and received from his sister Julie by return post, a beautifully printed decree drawn from the ?Cabinet rose? by the chimney. There are four great pages containing fifteen articles reinforced by legal terms and extracts of ordinances--the whole surmounted with a beautiful ornament made of acanthus leaves and bearing the following inscription, ?Made at the castle of the Louvre by Monsieur Pierre-August Caron de Beaumarchais, Equerry Councilor of the King, _lieutenant-g?n?ral des cha.s.ses aux bailliage et capitainerie de la varenne du Louvre, grande vennerie, fauconnerie of France_, having session in the chamber of council, Tuesday, January 17th, 1764, signed de Vitry, chief registrar.? For fear the list was not long enough, knowing well that one can never have too many t.i.tles in Spain, his brother-in-law added, ?Equerry Councilor, secretary of the king, _contr?leur_ of the house of the king, lieutenant-general, etc.?

But it is impossible to touch upon all the details of that correspondence so faithfully sustained on both sides for more than a year, during his stay in Spain. These letters are the chief source from which we have to draw in estimating Beaumarchais the son, brother and friend, as well as the man of the world and the man of business. Fortunately nearly all these letters have been preserved; we shall have occasion to return to them when treating of another phase of the life of Beaumarchais in relation to a connection formed before his sudden departure from Paris. As this incident with its connections takes us away from the outside world and conducts us into the inmost sanctuary of the home established in the rue de Cond?, all the letters which touch upon it seem to belong to the next chapter.

It is there we shall see Beaumarchais playing at first the part of the happy and accepted lover of his charming Pauline, but a little later a.s.suming the rather astonishing r?le of victim, for in the words of Lom?nie, ?In the end he is really the victim, and we shall see that he does his best to be furious. He is here the ant.i.thesis of Clavico. It is Pauline who will be Clavico, or rather there will be a Clavico who will carry off Pauline.?

CHAPTER IV

?_Figure charmante, organe flexible et touchant! de l??me surtout...._?

_?Les deux amis,? Act 1, Scene 1._

The Beautiful Creole, Pauline--Beaumarchais the Judge, the Lover, the Friend--Mademoiselle de Boisgarnier Marries Janot de Miron--The P?re Caron?s Second Marriage.

Before entering into a consideration of the r?le played by Beaumarchais as lover, a few more touches are necessary to represent him as he was before the world. We already have spoken of his various appointments at court, and mentioned the fact that in 1763 he had bought the very honorable charge of _lieutenant-g?n?ral des cha.s.ses aux bailliage et capitainerie de la varenne du Louvre_.

In order that it may be quite clear to the reader what were the functions a.s.sumed in acquiring this office we may explain that the _capitaineries_ were territorial circ.u.mscriptions in which the right of hunting was reserved exclusively for the king. That known as ?_la varenne du Louvre_?

extended for some fifty or sixty miles about Paris. There was a special tribunal called ?the tribunal to conserve the pleasures of the king? which tried all cases connected with infringements of the regulations belonging to the _capitaineries_. The audiences of the particular one in question were held once a week at the Louvre. They were presided over by the duke de la Valli?re, whose chief officer Beaumarchais now became.

When the duke was absent, which M. de Lom?nie a.s.sures us was almost invariably the case, Beaumarchais himself presided. Under the latter were many subordinates, some of them n.o.blemen of high rank, so that it is easy to understand the prestige of such an office.

There were innumerable regulations, many of them very trying to private individuals, which it became the duty of the lieutenant-general to enforce. In the territory belonging to the _capitainerie_, no game could be shot, no garden or other wall be constructed without special authorization from the tribunal which presided over these matters. So annoying were these regulations that in 1789 the suppression of the _capitaineries_ was one of the most popular measures voted by the _a.s.sembl?e Const.i.tuante_. In 1763, however, no one had thought as yet of the possibility of doing without them, so that we shall see Beaumarchais entering with his usual ardor into the exact and circ.u.mspect performance of his new duties.

To think of Beaumarchais as he appears later in life, attacking with the audacity which belongs to him alone, the very foundations of feudal despotism in his inimitable _Mariage de Figaro_, and to see him now in his long judicial robes seated upon the _fleur de lis_, gravely judging ?pale humans? apropos of rabbits, is a contrast which hardly can be met with in any other career, and certainly not in any other century. That he took his functions seriously and that he also knew how to guard such rights as individuals then possessed is clearly shown in the following characteristic anecdote which we quote from Gudin.

?Soon after his return from Spain, Beaumarchais had a quarrel with the Prince of Cond?, on the subject of the privileges of the chase, in connection with a certain garden wall which the Prince had torn down and which Beaumarchais as the protector of the rights of the individual had caused to be rebuilt. The Prince was very angry. M. de Beaumarchais mounted on a horse and went to find him while the n.o.bleman was out hunting.

??I have come,? said Beaumarchais, ?to give an account of my conduct.?

?A discussion at once arose; the Prince had a good deal of _esprit_ and what is rarer still in one of his rank, he had liberal ideas.

??Certainly,? Beaumarchais said to him, ?your Highness can obtain anything you wish. Your rank, your power--?

??No,? replied the Prince, ?it is as lawyer that I pretend to be in the right.?

??In that case,? said Beaumarchais, ?I demand of your Highness leave to be the lawyer on the opposite side and to plead before you. You shall be the judge.?

?He then proceeded to expose the affair with so much clearness, precision, eloquence, energy, and regard for the Prince that the latter avowed he was in the wrong and from that moment felt for Beaumarchais the greatest affection.? And the devoted biographer hastens to add, ?It was difficult to see him without loving him; the Dauphin, Mesdames, the Duke de la Valli?re, the Duke de Chaulnes and nearly all those with whom he came in contact have experienced the same sentiment.?

During Beaumarchais?s sojourn in Spain the functions of this office, when not presided over by the Duke in person, were necessarily left to subordinates. Beaumarchais however retained his charge until a period just prior to its final abolishment in 1789.

When in the spring of 1765, Beaumarchais returned from Spain he found the court plunged in mourning, for the Dauphin was very near his end. Concerts for Mesdames were not to be thought of, so very naturally he found himself drifting farther and farther from the social atmosphere of Court life. We soon shall see him employing his spare moments in literary work but before attempting to study Beaumarchais as an author, let us pause to contemplate him as the lover.

Like most romances connected with the life of this unusual character, the affair which we are now about to consider is not a romance pure and simple, but has also a very prosaic, business-like, matter-of-fact side.

It would seem that the story has come down to us only because there was a question of money involved, and of money never repaid to Beaumarchais. In the words of Lom?nie, ?We thank heaven that there was really a matter of business, that is to say, a debt at the end of this love affair, or else it would have met the fate of other episodes of the same nature, the papers relating to which have been destroyed, and so it is in the august character of _pi?ces justicatives_ that some very tender letters of an amiable young lady have been able to traverse the years.?

The amiable young lady in question, Pauline, was a charming creole, born on the island of Santo Domingo, then belonging to France. She had lost her parents in early infancy and was brought to Paris, where she was received by an aunt who became a second mother to the young girl. The family estate was estimated to be worth two million francs, but as it was heavily enc.u.mbered with debts and in a run-down condition Pauline was no such heiress as at first it would appear.

She was beautiful, however, and is described by those who knew her as tender, delicate, and childlike, with a bewitching voice and good musical ability. The family of Pauline at Paris became intimate with that of the Carons about the time that Beaumarchais made his first acquaintance with Paris du Verney.

From the first, Beaumarchais was much attracted to the beautiful girl, then about eighteen years of age, and as may be imagined had little difficulty in arousing in her a corresponding sentiment. Before demanding her hand in marriage, however, he decided to send a commissioner to Santo Domingo to look carefully into the condition of her affairs and to see what would be best to do for the re-establishment of the estate. An uncle of Beaumarchais, M. Pichon, accepted the commission and set out for Santo Domingo provided with 20,000 francs in money and a cargo of merchandise of which he was to dispose to the best advantage possible. Having taken this step, Beaumarchais wrote the following letter to Pauline in which prudence shows itself quite as clearly as sentiment.

?You thought me sad, my dear and amiable Pauline; I was only preoccupied; I had a thousand things to say to you which seem so serious, so important, that I have thought it wise to put them upon paper so that you can better grasp their import. You could not have doubted, my dear Pauline, that a sincere and lasting attachment was the true cause of all that I have done for you. Although I have been discreet enough not to seek your hand in marriage until I was in a situation to give you your proper station, my whole conduct must have proved to you that I had designs upon your future and that they were honorable. To-day, now that my funds are engaged for the re-establishment of your affairs I am hoping for the sweet fruits of my labors; I even said something to your uncle yesterday, who seemed favorably disposed toward me. I must avow to you that I took the liberty of a.s.suring him that I believed that your consent would not be refused me and I explained clearly to him my intentions. Pardon, my dear Pauline, it was without presumption that I was led to make the avowal to him. It seemed to me that your constant friendship for me was the guarantee of what I advanced. Do you disavow it?

?There is one thing, however, which still deters me, even though, my amiable Pauline, with proper management and a reasonable economy, it is probable that the actual state of my affairs is such that I have enough to make your destiny agreeable, which is the only desire of my heart; yet if through some terrible misfortune all the money which I send to Santo Domingo should be engulfed in the ruinous condition of an affair of which we as yet know nothing but from the testimony of others, these funds deducted from my fortune will no longer permit me to support a condition such as I would have given you; and what would be my sorrow if that were the case!