“Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais, lieutenant-général at the court of justice of your _capitainerie_, has the honor of representing to you that his detention by order of the king has not destroyed his civil estate. He has been very much surprised to learn that in violation of the regulation of the _capitainerie_ of May 17th which says that every officer who does not bring valid excuse for not being present at the reception of a new officer will be deprived of his _droit de bougies_, etc., etc. The exactitude and zeal with which the suppliant has always fulfilled the functions of his charge to the present day makes him hope, Monsieur le duc, that you will be so good as to maintain him in all the rights of the said charge against every kind of enterprise or infringement. When M. de Schomberg was in the Bastille the king permitted him to do his work for _les Suisses_ which he had the honor to command. The same thing happened to the M. the duc du Maine. “The suppliant is perhaps the least worthy of the officers of your _capitainerie_ but he has the honor of being its lieutenant-général and you will certainly not disapprove, Monsieur le duc, that he prevents the first office of that _capitainerie_ to grow less under his hands or that any other officer takes upon himself the functions to its prejudice. Caron de Beaumarchais.” In striking contrast to this picture of Beaumarchais defending so proudly his rights before a great noble, is another, also drawn by his own hand, in a letter to a child of six years in which all the warmth and goodness of his heart, as well as the delicacy of his sentiments, manifest themselves. We already have mentioned the fact that as secretary to the king, Beaumarchais was the colleague of M. Lenormant d’Étioles, the husband of Madame de Pompadour. After the death of his first wife in 1764, he had married a second time and he now had a charming little son, six and a half years old. Beaumarchais, intimate with the family, completely had won the heart of this little boy whose pretty ways were a constant reminder of the child he had lost. Learning that his friend was in prison, the child spontaneously wrote the following letter: “Neuilly, March 2nd, 1773. Monsieur, “I send you my purse, because in prison one is always unhappy. I am very sorry that you are in prison. Every morning and every evening I say an Ave Maria for you. I have the honor to be, Monsieur, your very humble and very obedient servitor Constant.” Beaumarchais instantly replied: