D’Eon charged with extravagance at the Embassy—Irritating
correspondence—Influx of French visitors—Odious proposal
to D’Eon—Is to return to subordinate duties on being
superseded—His remonstrances—The Earl of Hertford—The Count
de Guerchy’s arrival in England, and D’Eon’s letters of
recall—Secret despatch from Louis XV.—Official recall on the
plea of mental alienation—Disregard of the ministerial orders.
[Sidenote: IRRITATING CORRESPONDENCE.]
Simultaneously with the griefs that were being so vigorously laid
before de Praslin, the Chevalier was indulging in a brisk interchange
of letters with de Guerchy, in which he vindicated himself with no
little dexterity against the charges of wanton extravagance as host at
the embassy in London, for the general maintenance of which the count
was solely responsible, the liberal allowance of a minister at one of
the first Courts in Europe being enjoyed by him, though only ambassador
_in petto_, and not by the minister plenipotentiary _in situ_. The
spirit of satire and sarcasm in which D’Eon had latterly indited his
letters to both those ministers was more than either could bear with;
but, forgetting their dignity in the face of what, after all, was gross
insubordination, they gave way to a feeling of resentment, the former
in admonitions and threats, after receipt of the ‘churlish’ note; the
latter, by being offensive and insulting, and persisting in peevish
and unbecoming lamentations on the frequent requisitions to which his
pocket was subjected. We cannot undertake to reproduce in full the
mutual recriminations, brimming with scorn, that brought to a close the
unseemly paper war which irrevocably sealed the fate of the Chevalier
D’Eon; but we must at least find room for a few of the ugly things that
were said by the strong, as well as by him who was on the defensive, and
whom they were deliberately luring to his destruction.
_The Duke de Praslin to the Chevalier D’Eon._
‘Paris, September 17, 1763.
‘Sir,—I never could have believed that the title of Minister
Plenipotentiary would cause you so quickly to forget the point
whence you have started, and I had no reason to expect that
your aspirations would increase in proportion as you received
new favours.... I cannot conceive the necessity for the
extraordinary outlay at the expense of the Count de Guerchy,
and which is quite out of place. I do not conceal from you my
displeasure at your having involved in so great expenditure one
to whom I am attached, and in whom I take such an interest, and
who trusted in you on my recommendation.... I hope that you
will take better care of other people’s money for the future,
and that you will endeavour to be as useful to him as you have
been to the Duke de Nivernois, &c. &c.’
This and much more was irritating matter enough, and might perhaps have
been borne with patience by the Chevalier; but one other paragraph there
was which placidly gave him the lie, and banished all hopes of relief
out of his financial difficulties, so long as de Praslin remained at the
Foreign Ministry.
‘I gave you no reason to expect the reimbursement of your
former journey to Russia, because three of my predecessors upon
whom you made a similar demand had not, it appeared, found it
legitimate.’
[Sidenote: CLAIMS UPON THE STATE.]
It was not in D’Eon’s nature to receive this prevaricating statement with
composure. He was not sufficiently cool-headed to make a perfectly good
courtier. Smarting under insult and what he considered undeserved injury,
he relieved his agitated mind in emphatic language such as this:—
‘London, September 25, 1763.
‘I received, the day before yesterday, the private letter
you did me the honour to write to me on the 17th inst.; I
can only look upon it as a Testament _ab irato_.[117] _The
point whence I started_, when very young, was my native town,
Tonnerre, where I have a small property and a house fully
six times larger than that occupied in London by the Duke de
Nivernois. _The point whence I started_, in 1756, was the Hôtel
d’Ons-en-Bray, Rue de Bourbon, Faubourg St. Germain. I am the
friend of the owner of that mansion, and I left him, against
his will, to make three journeys to Russia and to other Courts
in Europe, to join the army, to come to England, to bring four
or five treaties to Versailles, not as a courier, but as a man
who had contributed to the framing of them. I have frequently
travelled although sick to death, and upon one occasion with a
broken leg; nevertheless, I am prepared to return to _the point
whence I started_, if such be my fate. I can only certify, as
a geometrician, that all points proceed from and should meet
in a common centre. _The points whence I started_ are those of
being a gentleman, a soldier, and a secretary of embassy; all
so many _points_ which naturally lead to becoming a minister at
foreign courts. The first gives a claim, the second strengthens
consciousness and endues with the necessary firmness for such
a post, but the third is the school for it. I acquitted myself
so creditably in the latter, according to your own judgment,
Monsieur le Duc, as to merit reward.... But whatever may have
been _the point whence I started_, the King, my master, having
chosen me to represent him, I should have forgotten everything,
and kept in sight only the _point_ I have reached. This is my
rule of right, and you will remind me of it if I forget it....
I venture to assure you, that you were good enough to promise
that you would again inquire into the matter of my first
journey to Russia, and that you should do me justice.... At
Vienna you told me that were you minister I should very soon
be paid ... you repeated your promise the last time I had the
honour of dining with you at Versailles ... the Duchess was
present.... I reminded you that I had been paying interest for
nearly nine[118] years on 10,000 livres borrowed for my first
Muscovite journey. The Duchess’ heart was touched, and she said
to you: “Really you should see that poor M. D’Eon, who has
served his King so well, is paid.” You, also, were touched,
and kindly replied: “I will make inquiries. I should be very
glad to see that he is paid, but how is it to be done!” That
same evening I left for England, and have remained crushed ever
since under the burden of my debts.... It is no proof that my
claims are groundless, because your predecessors failed to
do me justice. They succeeded each other in office with such
rapidity, as rarely to have had time to inquire into the many
matters on hand, and it is precisely because they failed in
their justice towards me, that I seek it at your hands....
Whether you be pleased or displeased, Monsieur le Duc, I will
respectfully continue to appeal to your sense of justice ...
and I will not cease to serve the King with my wonted zeal....
I respect your economy which is not disposed to pay my debts,
but I have greater regard for your justice, which should pay
them ... for mercy’s sake let me be paid my first expenses to
Russia, that I may satisfy my creditors ...;’ then, defending
himself against the charge of extravagance, he says: ‘Life and
style of living in Paris is very different to what both are in
London ... my accounts should be seen and examined.... I defy
any housekeeper to find in my accounts a single item of useless
expenditure of fifteen or twenty guineas throughout.... I have
never been at the head of any house except that of my father,
and in a twelvemonth it came to grief.... If you desire to know
me, Monsieur le Duc, I tell you frankly that I am of use only
for thinking, imagining, questioning, reflecting, comparing,
reading, writing, or to run from east to west, from north to
south, to fight on hill and dale. Had I lived in the time of
Alexander or of Don Quixote, I should certainly have been
Parmenion or Sancho Panza. If you remove me out of my element,
I will squander the entire revenue of France in the course of a
twelvemonth without committing a single folly, and afterwards
present you with an able treatise on economy....’
One extract, I think, suffices as an illustration of the general
character of de Guerchy’s letters to D’Eon:—
‘Jouy, September 4, 1763.
‘... The Duke de Nivernois informs me that he has lately
written to you on the subject of your communication, having
reference to the position to which chance has called you, and
to your wishes therewith so soon as I shall have arrived in
London.... I have shown the accounts you have sent to the Duke
de Praslin ... we find the expenditure excessive, the half of
my emoluments having been consumed ... nobody here expects
you to keep up any state.... I do not approve of the numerous
gratuities with which I am charged, and do not hold myself
responsible for them....’
[Sidenote: PLENIPOTENTIARY _v._ AMBASSADOR.]
_D’Eon’s Reply._
‘London, September 25, 1763.
‘... I take the liberty of observing to you on the subject of
_the position to which chance has called me_, that Solomon said
a long time ago—everything here below was chance, opportunity,
good luck, happiness, and misfortune, and that I am more than
ever persuaded Solomon was a great preacher. I will modestly
add that _the chance_ which gave the title of minister
plenipotentiary to a man who has negotiated successfully
during the past ten years, was in probability not one of the
most mistaken. What has come to me by _chance_ might come to
another by _good luck_. He who becomes a minister or ambassador
by _chance_ can never countenance arrangements repugnant to
himself, without giving but a poor idea of his heart and
mind.... I am sorry that the expenditure should seem heavy,
but it has been indispensable.... I appeal to ample written
testimony to this effect ... there is a large staff here to
be paid and boarded at the expense of the coming ambassador
... the _chance_ which created me a minister should have been
at the same time charitable enough to guarantee to me some
kind of condition, because a minister who keeps no state is a
being that has never existed.... I have been obliged to assume
to myself certain state, just as all bodies take position
according to respective gravitation. Not feeling the least
remorse, I must be proof against reproach.... A man, no matter
who, can only form an estimate of himself, even so far as his
opinion goes, by comparing himself to one or more other men.
There are several proverbs which serve to prove the truth of
this. It is commonly said: _He is as stupid as any thousand—he
is as wicked as any four—he is as shabby as any ten—men._ This
is the only scale by which we can be guided, except in certain
cases where men measure themselves by women. An ambassador,
no matter who, may be worth half a man, a whole man, twenty,
a thousand, or ten thousand men. It is necessary to determine
how a minister plenipotentiary, who is a captain of dragoons,
and has completed ten political campaigns (without counting
campaigns in the field), stands relatively to an ambassador who
is a lieutenant-general, and is making his début. Admitting
proportions to be one to ten, the assessment would always be in
favour of the minister plenipotentiary, papers being at hand,
C.Q.F.D. Everybody will understand that domestics, horses, and
secretaries have consumed and continue to consume the same
amount of food under the management of the Plenipotentiary
D’Eon as under that of the Duke de Nivernois. They have
remained ever since under the same sky and with an equally good
appetite.... There are occasions upon which gratuities must be
distributed.... I had to do so on delivering my credentials,
first as resident, then as minister plenipotentiary—on the
King’s birthday, the day the Queen gave birth to Prince
Frederick, and on the anniversary of the King’s coronation.
You must give people something, otherwise they refuse to leave
the door, make an abominable row, and end with obscene dances.
Happily, I am a bachelor; but you will have to see to this when
you arrive....’
In another letter to de Guerchy, the Chevalier writes:—
‘I dined with Lord Hertford to-day and met the diplomatic
corps, Lords Sandwich and March, and several other
noblemen.... Yesterday, the day of St. Louis, Lords Hertford
and March did me the honour to call at the embassy with several
illustrious Scotsmen, amongst them David Hume, who will ever
be the ornament and glory of his country. Some members of the
diplomatic corps had thought proper to tell me that they would
call at the French Embassy to celebrate the day of St. Louis. I
did not invite, I did not refuse to receive them, and I gave no
extraordinary reception. If the minister finds fault with this,
I am not to blame.... I could not have acted otherwise.’
Unyielding as the Duke de Broglie shows himself to be in his general
condemnation of D’Eon, we find him admitting[119] that French persons
of distinction abounded in London during several months after the
re-establishment of peace, all eager to visit the country so little known
and until then so little understood, and whose customs and literature
had only just been brought into fashion by Voltaire and Montesquieu. It
became the rage, as sometimes happens with society in Paris; and the idea
that they were rendering homage to conquerors did not restrain any of the
generation of that day, more interested in political and philosophical
innovations than in national honour. The Countess de Boufflers[120] had
given the signal, arriving with a number of literary people in her train.
‘I was obliged,’ again wrote D’Eon, ‘to acquit myself of my
duty to the Countess de Boufflers, a thousand times more of a
philosopher and more learned than I am, and quite a match for
any academician; as well as to other persons of quality in
London, without including Duclos, de la Condamine, Le Camus,
Lalande, &c.’
[Sidenote: AN ODIOUS PROPOSAL.]
Mistrustful, too, of the Chevalier’s veracity, the Duke de Broglie
informs his readers that until he had seen the original letter to de
Guerchy, dated September 25, in the official archives, he could not
believe in the authenticity of the copy published by D’Eon himself in
his ‘Lettres, Mémoires et Négotiations Particulières,’ the work to which
we are frequently having recourse. The duke’s, and our own readers, will
perhaps feel inclined to sympathise with his grace’s amazement at D’Eon’s
audacity in holding such language towards his superiors, until they learn
the vantage afforded by a vitiated and unscrupulous minister, when he
again insulted the Chevalier by seeking his co-operation in an odious and
dishonourable transaction. De Guerchy’s complaints of the Chevalier’s
extravagance as his _locum tenens_ became so loud and frequent that an
idea—a most foul idea—was conceived by de Praslin for making good the
supposed losses sustained by his old friend. Incredible as it appeared
at the time, de Nivernois lent something more than his countenance in
support, for it was he who first proposed it to D’Eon. His letter bore
three dates, September 9, 10 and 11, which the Chevalier interpreted by
saying that the late ambassador’s hand had refused its office twice,
even his ink-horn had shrunk from him, until at last his noble heart had
humbled itself to please old friends—the minister and ambassador.
‘... Give me leave to tell you, my dear friend,’ wrote de
Nivernois after a three days’ struggle with his conscience,
‘that you are wrong in dissipating nearly one-half of M. de
Guerchy’s monthly allowances. But it is not enough to find
fault, we must appeal to facts and find a remedy.... I think
that a gratuity, be it in your name or in that of M. de
Guerchy, but in either case for his benefit, will serve to fill
up the gap made by your dinners, and nothing more will be said
on the matter....’ ‘There are remedies that are worse than
the disease,’ was the Chevalier’s reply, also of September
25: ‘Are not those you propose, Monsieur le Duc, of this
kind? ... _application to be made to the King for a gratuity
in my behalf, but which is to be for the benefit of another
man’s pocket_! I could not conscientiously agree to such an
expedient, unless I were furnished with a duly legalised
receipt; for I am a man of order, and think it preferable to
leave open the gap made by my dinners rather than to stop it
up with such a plug.... I will never consent to the King being
asked for a gratuity in my name for the benefit of another....’
So far as the Chevalier was personally concerned, he felt that all he had
to reproach in the Duke de Nivernois was the Italian shrewdness of his
great-uncle the Cardinal Mazarin, and the extreme weakness and tenderness
of his poor nerves and understanding. He thought the duke must have
been endowed to a marvellous extent with a natural fund of honesty, for
it was a wonderful fact that, although he had been the friend of three
illustrious rascals during the past thirty years, the purity of his soul
had never become contaminated by so long and so close a friendship, by
so foul and unnatural an alliance. The astounding virtue of the amiable
duke reminded him of that of St. Ives. _Sanctus Ivo erat advocatus et non
latro. O res miranda!_[121]
One other mortification, the climax to the persecution he was undergoing,
the Chevalier was about to endure, and when we shall have become
acquainted with it, there will no longer be room for surprise at the bold
and unflinching attitude he had been assuming, and at the factious spirit
in which he had been addressing his superiors.
[Sidenote: DISCOURAGING INTELLIGENCE.]
When the Chevalier’s credentials as Resident reached England, de
Nivernois, perceiving that his _protégé’s_ mission was to end with the
appearance of a new ambassador, took occasion to express himself in
unmistakable terms to de Praslin on the unfairness of the arrangement,
and urged, considering the past valuable services of his secretary and
the conditions upon which he had accepted his appointment the preceding
autumn, that promotion, to which he was fully entitled, should be
permanent. Never ceasing to concern himself in all that related to ‘his
little D’Eon,’ de Nivernois, although no longer ambassador, continued
his exertions long after returning to France, with the success only of
receiving intimation from the minister that the Chevalier was shortly
to become minister plenipotentiary, when he should have to abandon his
old claim to travelling expenses in Russia; but that upon de Guerchy’s
arrival he must return to his duties as secretary of Embassy. Whatever
the occasion, however, of the ambassador’s absence from his post in
the future, D’Eon should be left in charge with the temporary rank of
resident; and this was all he could expect. Feeling how unpalatable
such news would be, de Nivernois earnestly recommended the Chevalier to
accept the situation and hope for better days. It was true that in again
becoming secretary after having been minister plenipotentiary, he was
descending from a bishopric to become a miller, but millers who had been
bishops were not to be found by the dozen! He warned him against further
disposition to rebel, repeating what he had already said more than once:
‘I know the man with whom you will have to deal’—an opinion of de Guerchy
much of the same substance as that expressed by the Count de Broglio.
It was very singular, thought the Chevalier, that when engaged in
war he was at peace with everybody, but since he had toiled at the
re-establishment of peace, he seemed to be at war with everybody.
_The Chevalier D’Eon to the Duke de Nivernois._
‘August 1, 1763.
‘... This is a difficult and an impossible negotiation, and
when I had the honour to tell you that I considered the
rank of Minister Plenipotentiary to be a misfortune, rather
than a benefit, I was right. I never sought the title nor
did I wish for it. It was bestowed upon me, and having been
obliged to assume it, I cannot again become a secretary,
then minister, again secretary, and so on.... I should be
a general laughing-stock, and no longer in a position to
serve the King usefully.... Should my letters of recall not
be sent, and I am permitted to retain my title, without,
however, discharging the office except at certain intervals,
I shall remain and cheerfully do my duty under the Count de
Guerchy’s orders, and the Duke de Praslin may allot any such
salary as he thinks proper. _I am tractable as regards money,
but intractable on points of honour._ ... I have made every
effort to please you, the Duke de Praslin and the Count de
Guerchy, and after mature reflection and having well weighed
every circumstance, I cannot but be persuaded that what is
demanded of me is an impossibility and not in my power to agree
to, without compromising the dignity of the King, a matter
of great moment to me, and without compromising the title of
Minister Plenipotentiary.... I shall certainly serve the Count
de Guerchy with zeal and attachment equal to that I entertain
towards the Duke de Nivernois, because when I serve, I do not
say with the priests, _ad utilitatem quoque nostram_. I serve
solely for honour and for the greater glory of the King....
My heart is deeply touched at the trouble you have been kind
enough to take, and at the advice you give ... your counsels
may be useful at Versailles, but suffer me to say that they
will not do in London.’
D’Eon further informed the duke that his loins were not sufficiently
supple to enable him to vault politically, at one time on the mule of a
bishop, at another on the ass of a miller!
[Sidenote: AN UNENVIABLE SITUATION.]
Without seeking to justify the Chevalier’s conduct in addressing such
flippant letters to his superiors, even to those he loved so well, some
indulgence may be claimed under provocation of no ordinary character. His
pension, ever in arrear, was irregularly paid; his salary as resident
was fixed at the inadequate sum of 12,000 livres, and he was to live at
the charge of the ambassador, whose pocket, by desire of de Praslin and
de Nivernois, should be spared to the utmost, and for whose sole benefit
a gratuity was to be obtained from the King, by a fraud in which it was
expected he would connive. It was too true that de Guerchy was totally
unfitted for the high office he had been called upon to fill, but ‘little
D’Eon, experienced, zealous, and useful,’ would be retained to do the
work, and steer the count clear of all eventual troubles; not, however,
with the title of minister or resident, to which he had been raised, but
as secretary of Embassy, to which he would have to descend, resuming the
former rank at such times only as the ambassador might be absent from his
post. ‘Little D’Eon, an easy, good-natured fellow,’ would have peaceably
resigned himself almost to any arrangement in accordance with the
pleasure of ministers; but the prospect of degradation to secretary, at
the same Court at which he had become plenipotentiary, was more than his
proud spirit could bear. This was the open wound that never healed.... He
had been directed by the King to receive his instructions from Tercier as
if they came from himself; he accordingly wrote to Tercier for guidance,
received expressions of sympathy and confessions of indignation,
and being supported by further secret orders from his sovereign, he
determined on his course of action.
For several months past an ambassador to France had been talked about,
and so early as April 14, D’Eon had intimated to de Guerchy that it
was commonly believed Lord Hertford would be named, accompanying the
information, as was his custom, with a sketch of that nobleman. The earl
was a Knight of the Garter, the father of six sons and six daughters all
living, without counting those to come, for her ladyship was still young
and in an interesting condition. His lordship spoke French well, and
was just the man to preserve the peace so happily arranged between the
two nations. He was a very courteous and amiable man, and of the same
illustrious family as the beautiful Seymour, one of the empty-headed
wives of a heartless king—he alluded to Henry VIII.[122]
The official notification of the Earl of Hertford’s appointment,
September 29, as ambassador to the Court of France, was quickly followed
by the official nomination, October 3, of the Count de Guerchy. Speaking
of the new minister, George III. asked the French plenipotentiary if he
was a good officer as general of infantry, to which D’Eon replied that he
was so good as never to have harmed anybody, and although a general of
infantry he considered him better qualified to command cavalry, because
at the battle of Minden he recommended the cavalry to be placed in the
centre and infantry on the wings. De Guerchy arrived in London on October
17, and put up at Lord Holland’s. The Chevalier hastened to wait upon his
new chief, and the two men stood face to face, not for the first time
in their lives, de Guerchy at once betraying the spirit by which he was
animated, in expressing his surprise at D’Eon not being present when he
alighted from his coach, and then asking whether he did not regret having
written to him his letter of September 25. ‘No, sir, and were you to
write me such another letter as that of September 4, from Jouy, I should
be obliged to send you a similar reply.’ De Guerchy added that he should
preserve the original as long as he lived; to which D’Eon replied that
if he feared to lose it he begged to offer copies in quadruplicate, with
his own attestation _ne variatur_! And so ended the first interview in
England between these two men, whose malignant hatred of each other was
not even swallowed up in death.
[Sidenote: LETTERS OF RECALL.]
In the course of the evening, de Guerchy informed D’Eon that he had
brought his letters of recall. ‘A la bonheur (_sic_), Monsieur le Comte!’
said the latter. ‘I will call for them in the morning, and at the same
time hand over all papers likely to be of consequence to you.’ The
following day, after de Guerchy had received the Embassy archives and
assumed official charge, the Chevalier demanded his letters of recall.
The ambassador, strangely agitated, searched drawers, portfolios, and
elsewhere, and finding them at last in his pocket, gave them to D’Eon,
at whose quiet acceptance of them he seemed disconcerted. D’Eon believed
that the pretended search was to give him time to make some kind of
apology for the past.
_The Duke de Praslin to the Chevalier D’Eon._
‘Versailles, October 4, 1763.
‘Sir,—The arrival of the King’s ambassador putting an end to
the commission entrusted to you by his Majesty as his Minister
Plenipotentiary, I send to you your letters of recall, which
you will deliver to his Britannic Majesty according to custom,
and with the least possible delay. You will herewith find a
copy of that letter. You will quit London immediately after
your audience, and you will at once proceed to Paris, whence
you will report your arrival, and where you will await my
instructions without coming to Court.’[123]
The Chevalier was recalled, and yet expressly forbidden to appear
at Court! There was apprehension lest he should bring to light the
iniquities of which he was the victim! He was greatly moved at the
contents of this letter, for even the despatch he had received some days
previously, through the hands of a secret courier, had scarcely prepared
him for so overwhelming a blow.
_To the Chevalier D’Eon, my Minister Plenipotentiary, London._
‘Versailles, October 4, 1763.
‘You have served me as usefully in the guise of a female as in
the dress you now wear. Reassume it immediately, and withdraw
into the city. I warn you that the King has this day signed,
not with his hand, but with the stamp, the order to compel you
to return to France; but I command you to remain in England,
with all your papers, until such time as you receive further
instructions from me. You are not in safety at your residence,
and here you will find powerful enemies.[124]
‘LOUIS.’
‘I have frequently heard the Chevalier D’Eon repeat to my father,’ says
Madame Campan, ‘the contents of this letter, in which Louis XV. thus
separated his individuality from the person of the King of France. The
Chevalier or Chevalière had kept all the King’s letters ...’[125] yet the
Duke de Broglie refuses to acknowledge its authenticity, and labours to
prove that it is an imposture.[126]
[Sidenote: FORSAKEN?]
No sooner had the Chevalier read de Praslin’s letter than it fell from
his hands. He began to suspect, for the first time, the evils that
menaced him. What was he to hope from the strength of character of a
monarch who deserted him when he had done nothing but obey his commands,
and whose only exhibition of courage consisted in signing away his
downfall with the stamp instead of with the sign-manual. Unable to adopt
and digest the idea that the King would submit himself to the will of
others, and sacrifice one who was dear to him and whom he supported in
secret, the Chevalier concluded that the affixing of a stamped signature
could only have been an act of momentary weakness, a concession to
temporary necessities, and he felt that he should be the more surely
justified, from having been so unjustly condemned. Reflections such
as these gave him courage and hope; he resumed his habitual gaiety,
his usual indifference, and resolved upon adhering to all the King’s
instructions, whatever the damaging situations in which they might place
him. He did not, however, resign himself to this sort of humiliation
without a struggle, being specially sensitive on points of honour and
self-esteem, feelings to which he was prone, and which were readily
excited within him.... He awaited his enemies with resignation, having
made up his mind to yield, step by step, inch by inch, and make them pay
dearly for a triumph he some day hoped to avenge.[127]
It had become de Praslin’s object to crush the Chevalier, first by
degrading him, then seizing his person, when he would have thrown him
in all probability into the Bastille. To effect this, he showed D’Eon’s
two letters of September 25 to the King—the one to himself, the other to
de Guerchy—and maintained that both sufficiently betrayed aberration of
wind in the plenipotentiary, who could not possibly continue at a foreign
court. It was under pressure such as this that Louis XV., feigning to
believe in the imputation, suffered the despatch of the letter of
recall, signed, not with his hand, but with the stamp.
_Louis XV. to George III._
‘Sir, my Brother,—The arrival of the Count de Guerchy, my
ambassador at your Court, causing the functions of my Minister
Plenipotentiary to cease, I do not delay to divest him of his
office, and to require his immediate presence in France; but as
he is not in a condition to present his letters of recall, in
person, I instruct the Count de Guerchy to deliver them to you,
and to renew to you upon this occasion the assurances of the
inviolable friendship with which you have inspired me, and of
my sincere desire to render it for ever durable.[128]
‘I am Sir, my Brother,
‘Your good Brother,
‘LOUIS.’
‘Fontainebleau, October 3, 1763.’
‘Instead of bringing the Chevalier to trial and proving his guilt, de
Praslin contented himself by causing forged letters of recall to be
presented to the King of England by the Count de Guerchy. There was
nothing in this to manifest the majesty of ministerial justice—it was the
feeble apology of a desperate cause.’[129]
[Sidenote: KING, MISTRESS, AND MINISTERS.]
It was enough for the Chevalier to have learnt from the King himself
that his letters of recall were not signed with the sign-manual; he felt
assured that his Majesty could not be prevailed upon to sign away, with
his own hand, his perdition, whilst want of firmness and feebleness
of character had precluded him from fairly interposing in the action
of his minister, and he refused to recognise the authenticity of the
document.[130]
‘My letters of recall in the form of disgrace,’ he wrote,
‘not having been preceded on the part of the Duke de Praslin
by necessary investigation, inquiry, or complete knowledge of
all circumstances, whence the decision may be imputed to his
own free act and will, are manifestly obreptitious, void, and
of no effect. A decision of so great gravity would never have
prevailed if truth, in seeking to approach the throne, had
not been checked by innumerable obstacles. To have the right
to persecute, one should be in the right, and to be in the
right, it is sufficient not to be in the wrong. Ministers,
like priests, are never in the wrong, and especially when
they are strong enough to prove that they are in the right.
Pompadour, who imagined that Louis XV. was unable to think,
without her permission—those great ministers at Versailles who
fancied that the King could do nothing without them, would be
greatly astonished were I to prove to them, as clearly as is
the light of the sun, and in the King’s own handwriting, that
he mistrusted them all as he would a band of robbers; that he
avoided them as he would a body of spies; and wishing to enjoy
a little domestic peace, he allowed them to go the way of their
own follies, for which he would afterwards try to make amends
secretly. He had a hundred times more esteem, friendship, and
real confidence in the intelligence, wisdom, and probity of the
Count de Broglio, and in the valiant qualities of his little
D’Eon, than in the whole of his mistresses and ministers put
together, the majority of whom he kept about him from the same
force of habit, largeness of heart, and regal grandeur, which
induced him to keep other strange animals in his menagerie.
When, under a despotic monarch, ministers and other great
people at Court are corrupt and of prejudiced minds, no other
alternative is left to oppressed innocence than an appeal to
the King and to God. Under a republic, it is possible to appeal
to God, to the people and to the sword; this last appeal being
frequently attended with success, when battalions are strong,
well disciplined, and artillery is well served.’[131]
Had D’Eon gone on to state how injured innocence was to reach a despotic
monarch, his experience would have been of service to many, even in this
the last but one decade of the nineteenth century; for the absolutism of
his adored master, his Most Christian Majesty Louis XV., is not to be
compared to that of one Christian ruler of these our times, the Imperial
ruler, who, whatever the disposition of his heart, is condemned by
tradition and long custom to spend his days in lonely grandeur, invisible
and unapproachable to all but one or two dissembling and unfaithful
ministers, too often shunned by even his nearest relatives, and therefore
unjustly mistrusted and despised by his subjects of every class.