liating and destroying that "insolent
nation" was always to him an inspiration. Vergennes, the French Foreign
Minister, though he lacked genius, was a man of boundless zeal and
energy. He was at work at four o'clock in the morning and he spent his
long days in toil for his country. He believed that England was the
tyrant of the seas, "the monster against whom we should be always
prepared," a greedy, perfidious neighbor, the natural enemy of France.

From the first days of the trouble in regard to the Stamp Act Vergennes
had rejoiced that England's own children were turning against her. He
had French military officers in England spying on her defenses. When
war broke out he showed no nice regard for the rules of neutrality and
helped the colonies in every way possible. It was a French writer who
led in these activities. Beaumarchais is known to the world chiefly as
the creator of the character of Figaro, which has become the type of the
bold, clever, witty, and intriguing rascal, but he played a real part
in the American Revolution. We need not inquire too closely into his
motives. There was hatred of the English, that "audacious, unbridled,
shameless people," and there was, too, the zeal for liberal ideas which
made Queen Marie Antoinette herself take a pretty interest in the "dear
republicans" overseas who were at the same time fighting the national
enemy. Beaumarchais secured from the government money with which he
purchased supplies to be sent to America. He had a great warehouse
in Paris, and, under the rather fantastic Spanish name of Roderigue
Hortalez & Co., he sent vast quantities of munitions and clothing
to America. Cannon, not from private firms but from the government
arsenals, were sent across the sea. When Vergennes showed scruples
about this violation of neutrality, the answer of Beaumarchais was that
governments were not bound by rules of morality applicable to private
persons. Vergennes learned well the lesson and, while protesting to
the British ambassador in Paris that France was blameless, he permitted
outrageous breaches of the laws of neutrality.

Secret help was one thing, open alliance another. Early in 1776 Silas
Deane, a member from Connecticut of the Continental Congress, was named
as envoy to France to secure French aid. The day was to come when
Deane should believe the struggle against Britain hopeless and counsel
submission, but now he showed a furious zeal. He knew hardly a word of
French