f this
so-called chef d'oeuvre. The first gentlemen of the chamber agreed that
M. de la Ferte should lend the theatre of the Hotel des Menus Plaisirs, at
Paris, which was used for rehearsals of the opera; tickets were
distributed to a vast number of leaders of society, and the day for the
performance was fixed. The King heard of all this only on the very
morning, and signed a 'lettre de cachet,'--[A 'lettre de cachet' was any
written order proceeding from the King. The term was not confined merely
to orders for arrest.]--which prohibited the performance. When the
messenger who brought the order arrived, he found a part of the theatre
already filled with spectators, and the streets leading to the Hotel des
Menus Plaisirs filled with carriages; the piece was not performed. This
prohibition of the King's was looked upon as an attack on public liberty.

The disappointment produced such discontent that the words oppression and
tyranny were uttered with no less passion and bitterness at that time than
during the days which immediately preceded the downfall of the throne.
Beaumarchais was so far put off his guard by rage as to exclaim, "Well,
gentlemen, he won't suffer it to be played here; but I swear it shall be
played,--perhaps in the very choir of Notre-Dame!" There was something
prophetic in these words. It was generally insinuated shortly afterwards
that Beaumarchais had determined to suppress all those parts of his work
which could be obnoxious to the Government; and on pretence of judging of
the sacrifices made by the author, M. de Vaudreuil obtained permission to
have this far-famed "Mariage de Figaro" performed at his country house.
M. Campan was asked there; he had frequently heard the work read, and did
not now find the alterations that had been announced; this he observed to
several persons belonging to the Court, who maintained that the author had
made all the sacrifices required. M. Campan was so astonished at these
persistent assertions of an obvious falsehood that he replied by a
quotation from Beaumarchais himself, and assuming the tone of Basilio in
the "Barbier de Seville," he said, "Faith, gentlemen, I don't know who is
deceived here; everybody is in the secret." They then came to the point,
and begged him to tell the Queen positively that all which had been
pronounced reprehensible in M. de Beaumarchais's play had been cut out.
My father-in-law contented himself with replying that his situation at