Part 8
The horrible plot is at last disclosed. I can now say to M. de Guerchy what the Prince de Conti said to the Marshal de Luxembourg before the battle of Steenkerque: “Sangaride! this is a great day for you, my cousin! You will be indeed a clever man if you get out of this mess.” ... The King cannot but be persuaded now of the truth; it is as clear as daylight.... I have informed the Duke of York and his brothers of the truth and heinousness of the conspiracy against you, the Marshal de Broglie, and myself. They will inform the King, the Queen, and the Prince of Wales. M. de Guerchy, who has been unfavourably received since his return, is disturbed beyond measure, notwithstanding his recklessness, and I know that the King of England is disposed to be just towards the Marshal and myself. Do your part and do not desert me as you appear to be doing. I will defend myself to the last drop of my blood, and fearlessly serve your house notwithstanding that you desert me, for you send me no money, whereas I am struggling on your behalf. Do not abandon me and do not drive me to despair. I have expended more than twelve hundred pounds in carrying on my war, and yet you send me nothing. It is abominable, and allow me to say that I should never have believed it.
The Comte de Broglie, who naturally desired to have nothing to do with such a campaign, refrained from sending the funds which d’Eon so insolently solicited. Several months before he had ceased to submit to the King the claims of his secret agent; but this time, realising the imminence of the scandal which d’Eon was about to cause, he asked Louis XV. to allow him to proceed to London in person. The King agreed to the Comte de Broglie’s proposal, and sought for a plea on which to obtain M. de Praslin’s approval of this mission. The design was abandoned, however, owing to an incident which threatened his secret diplomacy and completely absorbed his attention. D’Eon’s valet, a man named Hugonnet, who had been employed formerly as courier by the Marquis de L’Hospital, and afterwards by the Duc de Nivernais, was arrested at Calais when bearing despatches from Drouet, private secretary to the Comte de Broglie. Long suspected of being the intermediary of the secret correspondence, of which the ministers had some inkling, he had succeeded hitherto in baffling the spies set to watch him. Less fortunate this time, he was forcibly detained on applying at the offices of the Admiralty for his passport. “Upon his stating his name,” d’Eon relates, “the naval commissioner at once pointed his sword at his breast saying that he made him a state prisoner. Two grenadiers took him to M. de la Bouillie, commandant of Calais, who seized the bundle of papers and caused the said Sieur Hugonnet to be placed in close custody. He was then made to undress, his clothes and even the heels of his boots ripped open. A week later an officer of police arrived from Paris who had Hugonnet fettered and handcuffed, and removed him to the Bastille, chained by the waist to the coach-box of a post chaise.”
Hugonnet’s arrest brought about that of Drouet. The Duc de Praslin thought he had at last a proof of the Comte de Broglie’s correspondence with the criminal of the state, d’Eon, and he hastened to apprise the King of his discovery and his suspicions. Louis XV., seeing his secret again in danger, did not think of stopping the inquiry by simply expressing his will. He preferred the deplorable expedients to which his weakness had already led him to resort. Irresistibly attracted at all times by double-dealing, he contrived a comedy of which the subordinate agents of the ministers were to be at once the confidants and the actors. He sent for M. de Sartine, lieutenant of police, and ordered him “to lay aside all papers which might be seized in this affair concerning the Comte de Broglie, Durand, and Tercier.” Satisfied with this skilful, but still more strange, move, he wrote to Tercier making this admission, unexpectedly humble on the part of an absolute monarch: “I have unburdened myself and confided in de Sartine. He seemed pleased, and we must hope that his discretion and this mark of confidence will guide him aright. If we are disappointed, we will see what is to be done.”
Sartine had, at first, shown himself flattered with the secret unexpectedly entrusted to him; but it was not without misgivings that he undertook a dangerous part which was equally incompatible with his character and his office, and exposed him besides to the Duc de Praslin’s resentment. Indeed, so diffident had the Comte de Broglie found him that, in order to overcome his hesitation, he was obliged to reprimand him twice and to assure him that he could not refuse the service the King expected of him. Drouet’s papers were in consequence carefully sorted, and only a few unimportant letters were left to be investigated. Though the documents in question were now in safety there was still some fear of indiscretion on the part of the two prisoners, and Louis XV. was obliged to apply, directly and under the seal of secrecy, to M. de Jumilhac, Governor of the Bastille, in order that he should allow Tercier to enter the prison and communicate to Drouet and Hugonnet the depositions which the Comte de Broglie “had been more than fifteen hours preparing.” So well did each actor know his part, and so minutely was every detail foreseen, that the comedy was a complete success. No clear sign of a compromising correspondence could be traced, and de Praslin, who was present at the investigation, was forced to accept a judgment by which he was not really deceived. “I know well enough they are playing the fool with me,” he said to de Sartine angrily, as he left the court. But, conjecturing that he was running counter to a superior will, he resolved to await events before reopening the case.
Drouet was released after a few days; but Hugonnet was left in the Bastille, it being feared that too much indulgence would arouse suspicions. During his detention, which lasted over two years and a half, he lost all the savings of the calling whereby he had lived. In 1778 he was reduced to poverty, and if he obtained some slight compensation it was due entirely to the pressing appeals in his behalf which d’Eon made to M. de Sartine.
This incident, which had created so many different impressions at Versailles, had revived the hopes of revenge which de Guerchy nourished against his adversary and de Broglie’s partisans, and the news of this fresh defeat proved a bitter disappointment which increased the ambassador’s ire.
At this juncture strange reports began to be circulated about d’Eon, which were countenanced at the embassy, always ready to be malignant. The reserved habits of the Chevalier and the total absence of feminine intrigues in his life had long since excited ironical curiosity. Even the least perfidious tongues mocked the weakness of his constitution, others suspected him of being a woman; but many, attracted by the unusual, ascribed both sexes to the Chevalier. However strange and absurd such an assertion may appear, there is no doubt that it was made, and that it met, at this time as well as later, with amazing credulity. Other less ridiculous but more formidable insinuations, emanating from the same enemies, attributed to him the authorship of a defamatory pamphlet, published in the form of an anonymous letter addressed to the Lord Chief Justice. D’Eon was obliged to protest, and published a reply haughty enough to refute such accusations; but public attention, which he had courted so frequently, was now fixed upon him so persistently that several of the satirical works which it was becoming the fashion to treat with rigour were laid to his account. He was regarded as the author of a “dialogue between Mr. Frugality and Mr. Truth,” the ambassador and the ex-minister plenipotentiary of France being easily recognised under these pseudonyms. In Paris it was thought his bitter style was discernible in a work in six parts entitled: _L’espion chinois ou l’envoyé secret de la cour de Pékin pour examiner l’état present de l’Europe._ This was attributing to d’Eon many more books than he could possibly have produced. Engrossed by the judicial proceedings he had instituted against his ambassador, he had, with the assistance of his secretary and his lawyers, collected and often suggested the depositions of his witnesses. The grand jury of the Old Bailey met on March 1, 1765, and found a true bill against the Comte de Guerchy for conspiracy against the life of the Chevalier d’Eon. The case caused an extraordinary sensation. M. de Guerchy was expecting to be arrested at any moment; his butler, Chazal, who was accused of having administered the poison, had just taken flight, and also one of the secretaries who had written some of the libels. The cabinets of London and Paris were exasperated; Louis XV. and the Comte de Broglie thought it inconceivable that an ambassador could be delivered up to foreign tribunals. De Guerchy’s situation was all the more serious because the English law was founded on a number of intricate and not very well-known precedents. The case in point had been provided for by an extremely old statute, which jurisprudence had had no occasion to revoke. Only one case could be cited as an exact parallel, a trial which had led to the execution of the Portuguese Ambassador in the time of Cromwell.
De Guerchy could not believe that a similar fate awaited him; but the spirit of the English people had so frequently afforded him surprise that uncertainty increased his dejection, and drove him on to the most incautious measures. He was deeply humiliated, and his pitiful attitude was a source of infinite joy to d’Eon, who, triumphant, arrogant and full of threats, gave free rein to his malicious banter. “Considering the actual state of affairs,” he wrote to the Comte de Broglie, “it is absolutely necessary that the arrangement proposed by you should be at once concluded, and that you should be here without loss of time, say by the 20th of this month.... This is the last letter I shall have the honour of writing to you on the subject of the poisoner, that scoundrel de Guerchy, who would be broken alive on the wheel in France, did he meet with his deserts. But, by the grace of God, he will only be hanged in England.... I give you my word of honour that ere long de Guerchy will be arrested as he leaves the court, and taken to prison in the city of London. His friend Praslin will try to set him free if he can; but it is more likely that the friend to deliver him will be the executioner.”
The above ironical predictions were not fulfilled. So strange a finding could not justify the application of an expired law. The English cabinet would have dreaded the consequences, had they not already realised the injustice, and the absurdity even, of such a course. They at once began to search for a means of avoiding the danger of their immutable laws, and found one in the very arcana of their statutes. The suit was removed by writ of _certiorari_ into the Court of King’s Bench. This new tribunal declared the indictment suspended, and, without settling the main point at issue, granted a _nolle prosequi_ in favour of the ambassador.
The case was definitely withdrawn. The Comte de Guerchy was obliged to content himself with the paltry expedient which he had urgently demanded, but which did not efface in public opinion the disgrace of this scandalous trial. He retained the esteem of the ministers and of all discerning persons, but the general feeling in England was hostile to him. The King’s interference in a purely judicial matter was much criticised, and Lord Chesterfield, writing to his son, Philip Stanhope, questioned its legality. Among the people there was an outburst of indignation which threatened the person of the ambassador himself. The mob did not spare Guerchy their hisses, and one day they even stopped his coach. He had to hide his Cross of the Order of the Holy Spirit and declare that he was not the French ambassador but merely his secretary. Nevertheless, the threatening crowd followed him to the embassy, where the lacqueys hastily closed the gates, thus giving the police time to arrive and put an end to a disturbance which might have had extremely serious consequences.
De Guerchy’s position in London was becoming so intolerable that he took leave of absence and spent several months in France. In 1776 he made another short stay in England, and never afterwards returned. Durand was appointed his successor as minister plenipotentiary. He was one of the most faithful agents of the secret service, and had already represented the King in Poland.
D’Eon did not wait for the arrival of the new envoy, with whom he had been long acquainted, before attempting, by entreaties and intimidations, to resume his negotiations with the Comte de Broglie. The latter, still indulgent towards him, consented, deeming the opportunity favourable. The Chevalier made no further difficulty about delivering the royal warrants for his mission (but these only) to the new minister plenipotentiary, and, as is stated in the report drawn up at the time, he presented them “in good condition, folded in a parchment cover addressed to the King, and enclosed and cemented within a brick adapted for the purpose, removed from the walls of the cellar.”
In exchange for these papers, Louis XV. earnestly solicited by de Broglie and Tercier, and above all dreading d’Eon’s indiscretions and disputes, granted him a favour of which he deigned to inform him by his own hand:
As a reward for the services rendered to me by M. d’Eon in Russia, in my army, and in the execution of other commissions entrusted to him, I am pleased to bestow upon him a yearly allowance of twelve thousand livres, which I shall cause to be paid to him punctually at the expiration of every three months, wherever he may be, except in a country with which I am at war; and this until such time as I may think proper to nominate him to some post, the emoluments of which will greatly exceed the present allowance.
LOUIS.
So flattering a testimonial, which showed that his many scandalous intrigues were forgiven, if not forgotten, would have pacified a man less incensed. Sheltered by a minister plenipotentiary’s pension from the complete destitution in the midst of which he had been struggling for three years, anybody else but d’Eon would have gladly availed himself of this second opportunity for wiping out the past, in order to resume later a career greatly compromised, indeed, but in which his acknowledged talents still afforded him some prospects of advancement. Such was far from being the case, however; his destiny had driven him into adventures, and from this time adventures attracted him.
De Guerchy had died on his return to France. His health, undermined, it was said, by the anxieties of his embassy, never recovered from the final blow—the ridicule, if not disgrace, of his condemnation, to which he speedily succumbed. D’Eon’s hatred of this name which had proved so fatal to him was not disarmed by the death of his enemy, whom he continued to pursue with his pen. He was quite prepared for a fresh outburst of indignation against himself, in consequence of de Guerchy’s death, for which he felt sure he would be held responsible, and conjectured that he would meet with a hostile reception at court, should he venture to return to France.
The ministers’ resentment, which he had so freely mocked and scoffed at, and the anger of the house of de Guerchy, then all powerful, were sufficiently cogent reasons for his abandoning any idea of return. In England, where the judgment by which he was declared to be outlawed had just been annulled by the suit he had won against the ambassador, he was assured of a safe asylum and a degree of liberty that he could not hope to find elsewhere. Accordingly, he resigned himself to remaining there, fully determined to improve, by every possible means, a position he regarded as quite unjustly lowered, and to sustain that notoriety to which he had grown accustomed, and which had become indispensable to him.
VI
BIRTH OF AN IDEA
While demanding the restitution of the warrant commissioning d’Eon to make surveys in England with a view to an invasion of that country, Louis XV. had no intention of depriving himself of any services his secret agent could still render him in the capacity of informant. He knew that d’Eon had a thorough knowledge of the country, that he was well received in the upper classes of English society, and that he enjoyed genuine popularity, and consequently invaluable influence, in the lower. The King was anxious only to recover possession of a document bearing his own signature, which in the hands of an adventurer might prove dangerous, if not to French diplomacy, at least to the security of the secret correspondence. But, in his haste to make sure of the Chevalier’s silence, he omitted to demand the restitution of other papers which touched him less personally—namely, the instructions for the mission, written by the Comte de Broglie, and the entire correspondence relating to that subject, not to mention original despatches and copies which had been kept by d’Eon after his temporary position at the embassy. D’Eon had carefully refrained from parting with such precious documents, which might yet enable him to bring pressure to bear upon a government from whom he had received more promises than pay. Appeased by de Guerchy’s death, and less apprehensive, he applied himself again to the secret correspondence. Moreover, the Comte de Broglie gave him every encouragement in his letters. He tried also to make him realise the full extent of the last royal favours, and recommended him “to conduct himself with modesty and wisdom in future, and to abandon the romantic pose for the attitude and speech of a sensible man. Thus, and in course of time,” he added, “your talents will be remembered.... With an honest heart and a brave spirit, but not a fierce or violent one, the hatred and envy of the whole universe may be overcome.”
In another letter, written somewhat later, in which one can see the personal anxiety caused by the weapons remaining in his correspondent’s hands, the Comte de Broglie urged d’Eon to win the good-will of M. du Châtelet, the new ambassador, by delivering to M. Durand, who was returning to France, “the ministerial and other papers of every description” which were still in his possession. He concluded as follows: “I have received nothing from you since the letter I wrote to you in cypher at the end of last month. You have not acquainted me with what has passed in the interior of England. I recollect, and have not concealed from his Majesty, that you attribute the fact to the absence of your friend, Mr. Cotes, from the capital, but your ingenuity should supply the deficiency.”
The reproach itself proves how greatly the Comte de Broglie prized the information supplied by his correspondent. Entirely divested of any official position, d’Eon was still a newsmonger to whom the King’s secret counsellors constantly applied, and whose communications frequently influenced them in their decisions. His cultivated mind and natural curiosity had enabled him to acquire knowledge of state affairs while engaged in diplomatic negotiations. Unreasonable in his personal resentments, pretentious and imprudent in all that concerned himself, in politics he was a discerning judge, an accurate, and frequently a shrewd, observer. His fertile imagination, though wanting in tact, gave facts a graphic and original turn. The portraits he sketched, with a slight tendency towards caricature, were nevertheless faithful. “D’Eon,” says the Duc de Broglie, “was the precursor, if not the first, of those political reporters who play so important a part in the destinies of all the European parliaments.” He delighted and excelled in his task.
If d’Eon declined to follow the Comte de Broglie’s interested advice on the subject of the “ministerial papers,” he at all events showed that he was affected by the reproaches he had incurred for his negligence. Thus, during the course of rather over seven years, we find him drawing up reports, which he entitled “political letters,” and which he sent to the secret minister, either corresponding in cypher under his own name, or openly under the name of William Wolf. In these reports he discourses on war and finance; gives brief statements of home administration and colonial aspirations; relates carefully parliamentary debates and party quarrels; and does not omit to mention the little incidents of the court and the intrigues of the diplomatists. In one of his letters, selected from among many others, in which he expatiates on the question of _General Warrants_—a burning question in England at that time—he reports the love affairs of the royal princes. The Duke of York, surprised with a lady by her jealous husband, had just received a sword thrust in the shoulder; his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, on the point of contracting a secret marriage, was to be sent abroad. The Duke of Brunswick neglected his wife because he had discovered that she had contracted the king’s evil, which had broken out on the leg.
In this same letter, after this scandalous gossip (which, however, is not always a negligible quantity in politics), d’Eon touches lightly upon a matter of the greatest interest—namely, the overtures made to him by Lord Bute, the ex-minister, with a view to an eventual restoration of the Stuarts. Concerning this the Chevalier stated as his own point of view that “men and matters were not sufficiently matured.” The Comte de Broglie hastened to reply that he should follow up the proposals without binding himself; but the project, so frequently considered by France, was once again abandoned. In the same year d’Eon informed the cabinet of Versailles and Prince Masseran, the Spanish Ambassador, of “England’s design to invade Mexico and Peru in the approaching war, on the plan devised by the Marquis d’Aubarède, who was in receipt of a pension from England.” But the sphere of his inquiries was not confined to England; the correspondence he entertained with acquaintances in Russia enabled him in 1769 to apprise the King of an expedition which the Empress was then planning against the Turks, and which actually took place eight months later.
[Illustration: LA CHEVALIERE D’EON 1782
_From a Contemporary Oil-painting_]