Part 7
The storm of which d’Eon appeared to think so lightly was far from abating, however, for de Guerchy, enraged by his failure, had not yet given up the fight. He began by attacking his adversary’s partisans, and had just obtained from the minister an order recalling M. d’Eon de Mouloize to France, and arbitrarily divesting him of his rank of lieutenant of cavalry. Then, having exhausted all the resources of official pressure, he tried less circuitous means—launching out in a paper war which originated in the incident that occurred at Lord Halifax’s. The English newspapers had given a discreet explanation of the dispute on the following day. They were unfavourable to the ambassador, who realised that the laughter was not with him. Desirous of publishing his own version of the incident, he employed the services of a writer called Goudard, singularly unskilful in the profession by which he earned his livelihood. In exchange for a few guineas, Goudard delivered to de Guerchy a little pamphlet of a harmless description, but in which the facts were related in a light so favourable to the ambassador that d’Eon naturally felt prompted to reply. De Guerchy knew by experience how quick d’Eon was at repartee, and hoped that his adversary, unable to resist such a temptation, would expose himself in consequence to the penalties of English law, so severe in matters of libel.
However, whether he did not deem himself insulted, or whether he suspected a trap, d’Eon kept quiet, and the ambassador was once more disappointed in his expectations. At this juncture de Vergy came to offer his services to de Guerchy for a modest consideration. He, too, had reasons for taking offence at the pamphlet, and this pretext was sufficient to envenom matters. Accordingly he published a little brochure openly attacking the Chevalier. This time d’Eon thought it necessary to reply, but in doing so he made use of language mild enough to put an end to the discussion. This did not suit the ambassador, who never allowed his sense of dignity to prevent him insisting on the last word. He pursued the petty warfare, making one blunder after another, and issued his “Contre-Note,” a genuine piece of bathos, a severe and absurd condemnation of d’Eon. This publication produced the singular effect of animating persons unconcerned in the quarrel. Anonymous lampoons written in English were distributed among the public, also manuscript pamphlets, some taking d’Eon’s part and some the ambassador’s. Vergy, Lescalier, late clerk at the embassy, Henry Fielding, Justice of the Peace in London, took up the quarrel. A woman even, called Bac de Saint-Amand, signed a few pages which were deemed so comic that a second edition was rapidly exhausted.
For three months, during which over twenty different publications were produced, d’Eon contained himself; but his patience, as also his funds, was daily diminishing. Deserted by the King and without resources he wrote to the Duc de Choiseul asking him for permission to enter the service of England with two of his cousins, since, as he said, “he could not obtain justice in M. de Guerchy’s proceedings.” At the same time he made a last appeal to the Duc de Nivernais for support, in humbler and more friendly terms, but in which the threatening allusions were also clear. These letters remained unnoticed, as well as those he sent to the Duc de Broglie and to Tercier. Impelled by necessity as much as by a desire for revenge, d’Eon then determined upon making use of his last weapons against de Guerchy. On March 22, 1764, he published a book, full of impertinence and gross allusions to the ambassador and the ministers. It consisted of a vehement account of all his contentions with de Guerchy, written in a sarcastic tone, at times full of wit, and throughout aggressive. D’Eon reproduced, besides, the letters he had ventured to address to his ambassador and those he had received from him; intimate letters in which de Guerchy displayed, in a heavy, involved style, all his shabby parsimony and perplexity at the outset of his diplomatic career. Lastly, in a third part, d’Eon gave extracts from the correspondence exchanged between the Duc de Praslin and the Duc de Nivernais, which the latter had communicated to him, and in which the two friends expressed themselves freely and confidentially upon the subject of de Guerchy’s meagre qualifications.
These disclosures, so painful and humiliating for the ambassador, made a great stir in London. Fifteen hundred copies of the work were sold in the course of a few days. But the scandal did not in the least produce the desired effect. D’Eon only lost much of the sympathy which his wit and good-humour had formerly won for him, and which all his wanton insults had not yet exhausted. Walpole, writing at this time to the Earl of Hertford, British Ambassador in Paris, reflects faithfully the opinion of Englishmen, who blamed d’Eon severely, though not without regret:
D’Eon has published (but to be sure you have already heard so) a most scandalous quarto, abusing Monsieur de Guerchy outrageously, and most offensive to Messieurs de Praslin and Nivernais. In truth, I think he will have made all three irreconcilable enemies. The Duc de Praslin must be furious at de Nivernais’ carelessness and partiality for d’Eon, and will certainly grow to hate de Guerchy, concluding the latter can never forgive _him_. D’Eon, even by his own account, is as culpable as possible, mad with pride, insolent, abusive, ungrateful, and dishonest—in short, a complication of abominations, yet originally ill-used by his court, afterwards too well; above all, he has great malice, and great parts to put that malice in play.... The Council have met to-day to consider what to do upon it. Most people think it difficult for them to do anything. Lord Mansfield thinks they can; but I fear he is a little apt to be severe in such cases.
The Privy Council approved Lord Mansfield’s intentions. If the work was not, strictly speaking, libellous, it contained defamatory insinuations which admitted of the application of the act. Moreover, the whole diplomatic corps supported de Guerchy in his demand for an inquiry, and the Attorney-General brought an action for libel against d’Eon in the King’s name, which was tried a few months later.
The sensation in London was enormous, and even greater in Paris, where the author of the scandal was far more severely condemned, as a contemporary who kept a diary of political and literary events relates, under date of April 14:
M. d’Eon de Beaumont’s book has made a great stir here. It contains letters attributed to Messieurs de Praslin, de Nivernais, and de Guerchy, annotated by the inaccurate editor. They give a poor idea of the talent, the wit, and the statecraft of those who wrote them. The work is preceded by a preface in which M. d’Eon sets forth his motives for publishing these letters. His infamous behaviour, and the incongruity between his conduct and his style in the statements denote a malicious madman.
And he adds, under date of April 26:
The trial of M. d’Eon has begun, who is exciting much interest just now as the author of a most scandalous libel and most atrocious calumnies.
The volume so severely and justly condemned by public opinion was destined not only to rouse indignation at Versailles, but also to cause the utmost anxiety. Indeed, there was everything to fear from a man whose mind was so disordered. D’Eon had confined himself so far to talking about his own affairs; but it was by no means certain that he would prove equally circumspect for the future, or that he would refrain from divulging the secret and delicate negotiations in which he had been implicated, at the time of the conclusion of the last treaties.
The Duc de Praslin decided that the book should be torn up; but while giving this order he bethought himself of treating with the author. The King encouraged him to do so, for he shared his minister’s apprehensions, having just examined two letters addressed by d’Eon to Tercier, who did not wish to answer them. Moreover, they expressed only too plainly their author’s intentions:
I will never be the first to desert the King or my country (wrote d’Eon in one of them); but if, unhappily, the King and my country should think fit to sacrifice me by deserting me, I shall be obliged, in spite of myself, to abandon the latter, and in doing so, I will justify myself before the whole of Europe, and nothing will be easier, as you are well aware.
I will not conceal from you, sir, that the enemies of France, believing they may be able to take advantage of the cruel position in which I find myself, have invited me to enter their service. Whatever the benefits they offer, I cannot be influenced, and I shall be guided under these circumstances by honour only. I have answered as became me.
... The leaders of the opposition have offered me any money I demand, on condition that I deliver to them my papers and letters, under seal, promising to return them to me in exactly the same state when the money is brought to me. I unbosom myself to you, and you must feel how repugnant to me must be such an expedient.... But if I am entirely forsaken, and if, between this and April 22, Easter Sunday, I do not receive a promise, signed by the King or by the Comte de Broglie, to the effect that reparation will be made to me for all the ills I have endured at the hands of M. de Guerchy—then, sir, I declare to you, formally and authentically, I shall lose all hope, and in forcing me to clear myself entirely before the King of England, his ministry, and the two Houses of Parliament, you must make up your mind to a war at no distant period, of which I shall surely be but the innocent cause, and this war will be inevitable. The King of England will be driven into it by the force and nature of circumstances, by the voice of the nation and the opposition.
Louis XV., who did not go so far as to believe that d’Eon had in his portfolio the means of bringing about war with England, took the danger with which he was threatened coolly enough; but he was aware that his secret was in peril. M. de Praslin had not concealed his earnest desire “to see d’Eon safe in France, under lock and key.” The minister had even sent police officers to England, with orders to secure d’Eon, but only alive. Louis XV., however, “could not believe his agent was a traitor.” He judged him more justly and dispassionately than his secret ministers. Notwithstanding his faults, his pride and his imprudence, d’Eon was incapable of committing a disloyal action. If he had been induced to write such compromising letters, he had done so only under compulsion, and when driven to extremities by the excessive severity, or by the equally excessive weakness, of the means employed against him, and also by the obstinate silence preserved towards him by the Comte de Broglie and Tercier. On learning of the death of Madame de Pompadour, which occurred at this time, he believed that the secret ministers were at last publicly to enjoy their credit with the King. But his hopes were shattered: Louis XV. continued his double game, and the Comte de Broglie did not feel powerful enough to take advantage of the situation by obtruding himself upon the King, nor did he venture even to plead d’Eon’s cause.
Deserted by everybody, the Chevalier was extremely flattered by the offers of the Liberal party, which compared him to Wilkes, the idol of the people and the victim of a trial for libel. His popularity was increased rapidly in London, where his name was cheered after that of the patriot, but he was flattered chiefly because it was hoped that he might divulge some scandalous details with regard to the conclusion of the last peace. The Liberals expected him to furnish them with formidable weapons against Lord Bute, the late ministers and their successors, who were said to have been bribed by France. Though d’Eon did not intend to respond to their advances, he did not reject them, and he boasted of them to the secret ministers, hoping to obtain by intimidation the aid which had been denied to his entreaties. He was not altogether unsuccessful, since he was causing the King grave anxiety, if not on the score of the peace of Europe, at least on that of his secret correspondence. At the Comte de Broglie’s suggestion, Louis XV. despatched M. de Nort to England, with the mission of pacifying de Guerchy, but also with formal instructions to conciliate d’Eon by advice and promises, and to discover at least the nature of his demands. D’Eon, who had frequently met de Nort at the Comte de Broglie’s, welcomed him with enthusiasm, and proved unexpectedly moderate, believing that his rehabilitation was now imminent.
Hardly had he read the Comte de Broglie’s letter, brought by M. de Nort, when, elated with the alluring promises and the flattery which it contained, he wrote to the King on the spur of the moment:
SIRE,—I am innocent, and have been condemned by your ministers; but from the moment that your Majesty wishes it, I place my life, and the recollection of every outrage I have experienced from the Comte de Guerchy, at your Majesty’s feet. Be persuaded, Sire, that I will die your faithful subject, and that I am more than ever in a position to serve your Majesty for your great secret plan, of which you must never lose sight if you wish your reign to be the period of France’s greatness, and the humiliation and, perhaps, the total destruction of England, which is the only power really always hostile and formidable to your kingdom.
I am, Sire, your Majesty’s faithful servant in life and in death,
D’EON.
In writing this note, d’Eon allowed himself to be guided by his first impulse, and he realised afterwards that he had been too hasty. He was pleased to regard the Comte de Broglie’s letter as an earnest of more extensive negotiations. In this he was entirely mistaken, for if M. de Nort was disposed to let things take their course, he was obliged to confine himself to the terms of the letter, which contained a promise of a sum of money not stated, and the assurance of royal protection, but no reference to his reinstatement, nor to any redress of the injuries he had suffered at the hands of de Guerchy.
The infliction of this fresh and more bitter disappointment was a blunder. It was irritating him unnecessarily, and at the same time increasing his arrogance and infatuation by idle parleys. The Chevalier became aware the day after de Nort’s arrival that he had been greatly deceiving himself, and, in a fit of temper, he sent the Comte de Broglie’s letter back to the messenger, adding that, “since he was not being dealt with fairly,” he would rather remain, “like the goat in the fable, at the bottom of the well into which the King’s and the Comte de Broglie’s orders, and the personal hatred of de Guerchy’s friends, had cast him.” M. de Nort did not lose courage, and exerted himself to make him listen to reason; but d’Eon proved intractable and Tercier’s urgent letters did not meet with greater success. Feeling he had gone too far, however, in not providing himself with any loophole for the future, d’Eon declared that he could not reasonably be expected to give up the only weapons with which he could defend himself against M. de Guerchy in his judicial proceedings. The ambassador had but to desist from his action for the negotiations to be immediately simplified. Thus rebuffed, M. de Nort deemed that there was nothing more for him to do in London. He had not succeeded better, moreover, in the case of M. de Guerchy.
The time was indeed ill-chosen for urging the ambassador to be moderate. Never was he so near the attainment of his object, so sure before long of having the Chevalier at his mercy. The humiliation he had just experienced had, moreover, greatly increased his irritation. He was awaiting the result of the trial for libel, counting on English law for the conviction of his enemy, and already keeping in readiness for his capture a few carefully chosen myrmidons, despatched to him, at his request, by the Duc de Praslin. “A vessel, manned by twenty-one armed men, was moored at Gravesend,” and they had “detached a little six-oared boat which lay between Westminster and London Bridge,” and into which he was to be put as soon as they had seized upon his person. The admirers whom d’Eon had found in the slums of London, among the mariners and the rabble of the port, came immediately to report this to him, by which means the Chevalier eluded once more the pursuit of the prematurely triumphant ambassador. D’Eon wrote letters to the Lord Chief Justice, the Earl of Mansfield, to Lord Bute and to Mr. Pitt, which he had printed, and which the newspapers published. In these letters he represented what plots were being laid against him, appealed to public opinion, and requested the ministers to take measures for his safety.
Mr. Pitt alone replied by a few lines:
Considering the extremely delicate nature of the circumstances, you will not, I trust, disapprove of my confining myself to regretting a state of affairs with regard to which I am unable to offer the advice you do me the honour of soliciting.
The agitations fostered by d’Eon were sufficient to protect him against de Guerchy’s attempts, in a country where the liberty of the individual was so effectively safeguarded. Summer was approaching, and he set out for Staunton Harold, the seat of his friend, Earl Ferrers, while the ambassador returned to France on leave of absence.
Autumn brought de Guerchy back to London, where the action for libel was on the point of being tried. The cabinet had all but assured the ambassador that he should obtain a favourable verdict, authorising him to seize d’Eon and his papers. Meanwhile d’Eon, of whom everything could be expected but a retreat, failed to make his appearance in court. His counsel asked for an adjournment, alleging that the defendant had not had sufficient time to summon the witnesses whom he intended to produce; the judges refused the application and proceeded with the case. The desired verdict was given, d’Eon being found guilty; but when the officers of the law called at his residence to notify the sentence they found his apartments empty—the Chevalier had departed. Foreseeing that the trial would turn against him, he had taken refuge in furnished lodgings in the city, together with his cousin de Mouloize. So safe did he think himself, and so little did he trouble himself about his concealment, that he narrowly escaped being arrested forthwith by “two messengers of State who entered the house of Mrs. Eddowes, where the Sieur d’Eon was supposed to have taken refuge, with a warrant and a number of armed soldiers.” “The police officers,” relates d’Eon, “burst open doors, cupboards, and valises, in their search for me, and only found my cousin, de Mouloize, who was quietly warming himself beside the fire with Mrs. Eddowes and another lady. The other lady was she who is generally called the Chevalier d’Eon.”
The English ministers, goaded by de Guerchy, and furious at the blundering of the police officers, as well as at the laxity of their chief, were growing impatient. Lord Halifax, extremely displeased that d’Eon was still at large, was surprised at the Solicitor-General’s absence at this critical moment, and requested him to return hastily, in order that the affair might be no further delayed, and that the culprit might be arrested legally and brought before the court to receive sentence. All these measures proved ineffectual, for d’Eon had hidden himself, his recent adventure having taught him to be more prudent. He had set his spies to work, going out “only with all the vigilance a captain of dragoons should observe in time of war,” and was engaged in his retreat upon a “brilliant and exhaustive defence” against the cabal of the court. He was preparing the crowning act of his folly, the set-piece of the firework display with which to astound the ambassador. His “brilliant defence” was about to cause an unprecedented scandal, in London and Paris, unique in the annals of diplomacy. Having disdained to answer the notice of action served on him in the Court of King’s Bench, he was about to summon the ambassador of France before the grand jury of the Old Bailey on a charge of attempted poison and murder.
In fact, d’Eon renewed all his former accusations, having discovered an invaluable witness and gathered fresh proofs. At his instigation the Sieur Treyssac de Vergy reappeared upon the scene. Imprisoned for debt and deserted by the ambassador whom he had served with his pen, but from whom he had been unable to procure any help, Vergy turned to d’Eon quite repentant, promising to give evidence in support of extremely grave disclosures. He again affirmed that he had come to England by order of the ministers, who had made him understand that they desired “to bring d’Eon into disgrace; but that a skilful and an alien hand must do this.” No sooner had de Guerchy arrived in London than he brought about the events which, thanks to d’Eon, were already notorious. Vergy declared himself ready to sigh his statements, and to recapitulate them, for greater safety, in his will. In 1774, he again repeated them, when on the point of death, as the Chevalier’s papers prove.
However suspicious, such evidence was extremely compromising in the eyes of a British jury. Guerchy would not be convinced, refusing to believe that anybody could credit these fabrications, which “were enough to make one shudder.” More astonished than alarmed he merely remarked that “d’Eon had crowned his rascality.” The Chevalier was exulting openly; however, in order to avoid breaking with the secret minister, he strove to interest the Comte de Broglie in his behalf, and to induce him to make common cause with him. In a letter accompanying a copy of Treyssac de Vergy’s lengthy deposition he wrote: