Revival of gambling policies on D’Eon’s sex—Renewed
protests—Admits being a female to the Count de
Broglio—Beaumarchais a hard master—He demands final
instructions from the King—Differences of opinion and angry
interchange of letters.
D’Eon’s burning desire to see his beloved France was at length about
to be gratified, and as these fresh news got bruited about, the press
announced that the Chevalier had been recalled, it being the King’s
intention to load _him_ (or _her_) with honours, and that the heroine
would be shortly leaving for her native land, where the French Court was
impatient to see her. Such rumours only served to revive all the old
squabbles over the policies on his sex, and bets ran seven to four that
D’Eon was a woman and not a man,[309] which, though fairly heavy odds,
showed that there still existed a pretty strong feeling in favour of his
being a man rather than a woman. He again became the subject of numerous
objectionable proposals, advances he repelled with infinite disgust, and
which he did his best to discountenance and discourage by a protest to
which he gave the greatest possible publicity.
[Sidenote: FRESH PROTESTS.]
‘The Chevalier D’Eon desires, with most earnest entreaty,
the people of England, who hitherto have testified their
benevolence towards him, and have taken so great a part in his
misfortunes, not to renew any policies on his sex, since the
desire to discountenance those that were made in 1771 has
been the principal cause of his remaining four years longer in
England than intended. He is convinced that there are amongst
the great in France some that abuse the perfect knowledge they
have of his sex, so as to engage certain bankers in Paris to
correspond with certain bankers in London. Some of those great
men have a design, perhaps, to hurt his peace by what remains
of their impotent revenge, and think the people of England
would thereby become accomplices in their malice. The Chevalier
D’Eon cannot believe it, but, whatever are the grounds for
fresh reports, the Chevalier D’Eon publicly declares, as in
justice he ought, that he has recently refused great sums of
money which have been offered to him to be concerned in such
policies; offers that he could never hear of but with the most
sovereign contempt. He declares that he will never manifest
his sex till such time as all policies shall be at an end. If
that is impossible, the Chevalier D’Eon will be forced to quit
secretly a country which he deems second to his own, as it
has proved a bulwark against the persecution of his malicious
enemies; and this act would be so much the more painful, as
his Sovereign (who is as equitable as he is benevolent) has
just rendered to him a most signal act of justice, which will
soon be made public, as will his condition and extraordinary
situation with respect to the late King, a situation unknown
to this day to all the ministers and ambassadors, and to the
public. If after a desire and declaration so formal, that same
public will continue to deceive itself, they are entirely at
liberty to do as they please.[310]
‘THE CHEVALIER D’EON.’
‘London, November 11, 1775,
‘32 Brewer Street, Golden Square.’
In less than a month after the appearance of this address, by which it
might be inferred that if D’Eon was anything at all he was more probably
a man than a woman, his old chief and firmest of friends, the Count
de Broglio, received his humble confession that he was not a man but
a woman—a confession that could only have been to one of the count’s
discernment and sensibility but transparent veneer over the sarcasm the
letter was intended to convey.
‘It is time to undeceive you. For a captain of dragoons,
and aide-de-camp in war and politics, you have had but the
semblance of a man. I am only a maiden who would have perfectly
well sustained my part until death, had not politics and your
enemies rendered me the most unfortunate of women.... You will
admit, by the facility with which I separate myself from the
world, that I remained in it for your sake only; and since I
can no longer work or fight under your orders and under those
of the marshal, your brother, I will renounce without any pain
this deceitful world, which, however, has never deluded me,
except in my youth so sorrowfully spent. I no longer believe it
possible to die of grief, since I have the strength to endure
so much. I know not how long I shall be able to sustain this
cruel shock, as I have been confined to my bed through illness
for the last twelvemonth.
‘I am respectfully, Monsieur le Comte, your most humble and
most obedient servant (_serviteur_),
‘GENEVIÈVE-LOUISE-AUGUSTE D’EON DE BEAUMONT.’
‘London, December 5, 1775.’
‘P.S.—You seemed to be astonished, Monsieur le Comte, at M. de
Beaumarchais having meddled in my affairs; but you will cease
to be so when you know that this has been the will of the King
and of the Count de Vergennes, and that I had been enjoined not
to write to anybody upon the arrangement of my affairs until
all was settled. Everything soon will be, and very differently
to the extraordinary propositions made by the Marquis de
Prunevaux.’[311]
This was the last letter of any consequence addressed by D’Eon to
the Count de Broglio,[312] who gave little encouragement to his
correspondent of many years’ standing, if we except one written in 1778,
and which will be touched upon in its proper place.
[Illustration: _Facsimile of an autograph title-page in the Christie
collection of D’Eon M.S.S._]
[Sidenote: BEAUMARCHAIS’ ARTIFICE.]
Although the Covenant between Beaumarchais and D’Eon had been formally
signed, there still remained certain conditional clauses to be ratified.
Beaumarchais informed the Count de Vergennes that he had assured the lady
with whom he was in treaty, that if she were wise, discreet, silent, and
well conducted, he should give so good an account of her to the King’s
minister, and even to his Majesty himself, as to lead to the hope that he
should succeed in obtaining for her other benefits. He did not hesitate
to hold out such a promise, having a balance on hand of 41,000 livres
tournois, with which he purposed rewarding each submission she made, by
supposed concessions on the part of the King and of his minister; only,
however, as favours that were being granted, and not in satisfaction of
any claim. It was by such artifice only that he could expect to prevail,
and subdue the unruly and crafty creature. The triumph of Beaumarchais
was complete, for D’Eon, even in spite of himself, was effectively within
his grip; and he who had spent a lifetime in the direction of affairs,
and whose ambition and restlessness would never brook interposition,
became at length persuaded that his only chance in life—and yet at what
a fearful sacrifice—lay in meekly submitting to the only man who had
ever succeeded, being favoured by the most exceptional circumstances, in
daunting his rebellious spirit.
Beaumarchais again left London, taking with him upon this occasion
his prize, the iron safe, which he delivered into the custody of de
Vergennes, tendering at the same time to that minister a series of
questions for the consideration of the King, who was entreated to
insert replies in his own hand, that he might be armed with further
incontestable authority for bringing his transactions with D’Eon to a
speedy termination. The text of the original, which is preserved, was
written by Beaumarchais himself and bears his signature, ‘the replies to
each question, on the margin, being in a small, tremulous, and undecided
hand, in which the letters _t_ and _v_ are scarcely indicated—it is the
writing of the good, weak, and unhappy monarch....’
There were other questions to which Beaumarchais sought for answer, but
as they are in connection with his enterprises in the American cause, and
entirely irrelevant to our story, we pass them over.
‘Essential points which I entreat the Count de Vergennes to
submit for the decision of the King, previous to my departure
for London, this 13th day of December, 1775. The replies to be
inserted in the margin:—
‘Does the King grant permission to the Demoiselle D’Eon to wear
the cross of Saint Louis in female attire?
_In the provinces only._
‘Does his Majesty approve of the gift of 2,000 crowns which I
have placed to the credit of that lady for her female outfit?
_Yes._
‘If in the affirmative, does his Majesty leave to her disposal
the whole of her male garments?
_She must sell them._
‘As the granting of these favours must depend upon a certain
frame of mind I would impose for ever on the Demoiselle D’Eon,
will his Majesty be pleased to leave me at liberty to concede
or refuse them, as I may deem most desirable to the interests
of his service?
_Yes._
‘Since the King cannot refuse to direct his Minister for
Foreign Affairs to furnish me with a receipt for all the papers
I have brought to him from England, I have requested the Count
de Vergennes to entreat his Majesty to have the goodness to add
at the foot of the said receipt a few words _in his own hand_,
expressive of his satisfaction at the manner in which I have
accomplished my mission. This reward, the dearest to my heart,
may some day prove of the greatest service to me. Should some
powerful enemy at any time hereafter call upon me to render
an account of my conduct in this affair, I should, with one
hand, show him the King’s order, and with the other tender
the certificate of my master, testifying that I executed his
orders to his satisfaction. All extraneous interference would
in such a case be futile, and people will be at liberty to say
what they please, without my being called upon to offer any
explanation or being in the least degree concerned.’
_Good._
In countersigning this document, de Vergennes added: ‘The marginal
replies are in the King’s own hand,’ and Beaumarchais was granted a
certificate to the effect that ‘the King was entirely satisfied with the
zeal he had exhibited on this occasion, and with the intelligence and
skill displayed in accomplishing the mission entrusted to him.’[313] With
these precious papers Beaumarchais took flight for the English capital,
where he arrived on December 29.
[Sidenote: A TIFF.]
D’Eon’s action in rushing into print during the absence of Beaumarchais,
was scarcely in accordance with the stipulations of the latter that she
should preserve a discreet and silent demeanour, and he told her so. In
justification, D’Eon said he should never have thought of having recourse
to the press had not several persons, he knew well, been at some pains
to revive the policies on his sex. Leaving his chair abruptly, and
putting on his hat in a passion, Beaumarchais qualified the notice she
had inserted in the ‘Morning Post’ as a badly-worded, stupid, senseless,
and impertinent production from beginning to end—to which sentiment
D’Eon responded by also rising and putting on his hat, and terminating
the interview by saying that the negotiations and such negotiators as he
was, might go to the d——l! The next morning he hired a post-chaise, and
leaving Beaumarchais to his own devices, went to Lord Ferrers’ seat in
Leicestershire, where we shall find him for the next two months.
D’Eon had hardly left the room than Beaumarchais felt that he had gone
too far, and hastened to make some friendly advances. He was greatly
affected, he wrote, at the exhibition of feminine choler on her part, and
at the masculine terms of the compliment she had paid him. He reminded
her that she had always found him agreeable and cheerful, straightforward
and liberal in his dealings—and having said so much by way of apology,
he awaited with curiosity any explanations she might have to offer. None
came, and at the expiration of another week Beaumarchais again wrote,
to say that in whatever part of England she might be, she had had ample
time to answer his letter, and since she had not done so, he concluded
they were in future to consider themselves strangers to each other. He
was too gallant to differ with her on such a point! But she should not
fail to remember how greatly she was indebted to him for the many favours
the King had granted, and she was to beware lest she conducted herself
with ingratitude towards the King, as she had done towards himself. To
Lord Ferrers he also wrote, requesting his lordship to supply him with a
receipt in full for the money he had paid him,[314] a request, he said,
he had intended to prefer through M. D’Eon, but who suddenly disappeared
out of his sight without leaving word as to whither she had gone—and
this, simply because he had reproved her, as a matter of necessity, for
certain indiscretions committed during his, Beaumarchais’, absence.
[Sidenote: UNAVAILING REGRETS.]
Lord Ferrers replied—and we would draw attention, for future reference,
to that part of his letter we have italicised:—
‘I can only say that M. D’Eon arrived at Staunton on the 2nd,
feeling very unwell, and he is so still.... I do not find that
he has behaved ungratefully towards you, but I find that he has
not sufficient money _to pay what he owes me_. He has told me
of some differences of opinion with you in regard to an article
that has appeared in the papers, on the policies made as to his
sex, which, I hope, will not lead to any rupture between you.’
The surrender of the precious deposit which had constituted his strength
over the space of many years, and emboldened him in his seeming
insubordination and fearless demeanour towards the ministers of France,
had brought the affairs of D’Eon to a crisis, where the making or
unmaking of him for the remainder of his days depended almost entirely
upon submission to the man into whose hands was committed his destiny,
and in whom he himself pretended to confide. The Chevalier’s meekness
whilst settling terms with Beaumarchais was, it might be supposed, an
exemplification of the moral derived from La Fontaine’s fable—
‘Patience et longueur de temps
Font plus que force ni que rage.’
But D’Eon’s submission was a sham, for his mind was racked with positive
pain—suffering which grew in intensity the more completely he realised
the wretchedness of his situation. He had allowed himself to be
persuaded to admit that he belonged to the female sex, and to pledge
himself to the assumption, for life, of female attire; irrevocable
facts, under pain of forfeiting the only means of existence left to
him! Yet there remained matters touching his honour in which he knew he
should never be able to vindicate himself, from the moment it became
publicly established that the Chevalier D’Eon was no longer a man;
because it would be impossible for him, being a woman, to take the law
into his own hands as was his wont in certain cases. Whether he were a
male or a female, the King cared little enough, but the Chevalier was
to be put into petticoats by his orders, that the scandal in which a
late French ambassador in London had figured so objectionably, should
never by any possibility be revived. Beaumarchais had stated what was
perfectly true—D’Eon’s blood boiled at the bare mention of the name of
Guerchy—while the vehement longing of the young count to avenge his
father had never been gratified, and his tongue had not ceased openly
to slander the enemy he would chastise. D’Eon had so far failed also
in disabusing the public mind generally of the imputation of his being
concerned in the gambling policies on his sex, and had not succeeded
in lifting himself above the cloud that tarnished his reputation and
saddened his days. Moreover, in charging him with having failed to render
certain papers which were found to be missing, upon the verification of
the inventories at Versailles, Beaumarchais had exercised his authority
oppressively and offensively. D’Eon would have called him to account
for this, after an unmistakably manly fashion—but he bethought himself,
as being more to his advantage, of allowing that he still held some of
the secret correspondence,[315] hoping against hope that he might yet
prevail upon the pitiless King’s agent to yield to other demands, for
which he thought he had a right to press. Nevertheless, he did inflict
upon him a _gentle_ kind of punishment in the shape of a sorrowful
despatch, consisting of no less than thirty-eight pages—the first of a
series that was maintained well into the year 1778.
[Sidenote: LETTERS TO BEAUMARCHAIS.]
‘Staunton Harold, Leicestershire, January 7, 1776.
‘... You will allow me to tell you that the tone of despotism
you have assumed since we signed our preliminary contract, and
since your return from Paris, is exceedingly revolting to me,
and causes you to be as intractable as was Mr. Pitt in 1761,
during the negotiations for peace.... You know how sensitive I
am, and you are losing your time and your pains in seeking to
alter my views on a matter that solely concerns my scruples on
personal honour. I am determined that upon no account, and not
for any money in the world, shall it be possible for people
to believe I am interested in the infamous policies on my
sex.... I cannot depart from the principles of honour I have
traced out for myself, and of which I told you before you left
for Paris.... It is possible that the wits and financiers of
Paris ridicule my article in the “Morning Post” of November
13, and that they think my peculiar situation affords them the
opportunity for robbing the English. I will never consent to
anything of the sort, even should all France blame me.... I
prefer being taken for a stupid and senseless creature, rather
than for a thief and knave.... If what I say is right, I am
justified; if not, my error must be my excuse.... I am staying
with Lord Ferrers, who has invited me for a month past to come
here and recruit ... but I have also several affairs to settle
with his lordship.... I purpose taking advantage of my being
in the country to lay open to you my heart, and address you
with all the sensitiveness of Mademoiselle de Beaumont, and
the frankness of the Chevalier D’Eon. I will begin by making
some observations on the contents of your letter ...;’ and
here the Chevalière plied with the essence of flattery the
man she had already so successfully cajoled. ‘I can truly
swear that in the whole course of my life I have never come
across a more cheerful, better informed, and more agreeable
man in society than M. de Beaumarchais. As to your generosity
in matters of business, if by this you mean the favourable
reports you were good enough to make of me to the young monarch
and to his worthy minister; if you allude to the lofty,
energetic, pleasing, striking, and creditable composition of
our preliminary agreement of October 5, I admit with pleasure,
although with the pain, the shame, and the tears that the
avowal and admission of my own weakness have wrung from me,
that you alone were capable of producing such a document ...
but if you mean generosity in money matters, as the term you
employ would seem to imply, I confess to you my dear, my very
dear Beaumarchais, that with the exception of the Duke de
Praslin and his friend the late Count de Guerchy, I have never
found any person more tenacious of money than yourself.... You
will no doubt say that you have had the generosity to promise
in the King’s name, but on your own responsibility, the sum of
2,000 crowns, equal to 250 guineas, for my female outfit, and
you thereby give yourself credit for extraordinary generosity!
My reply is—It is not I who have sought this metamorphosis; it
was the late King and the Duke d’Aiguillon, it is the young
King and the Count de Vergennes, it is you yourself in virtue
of your powers, it is the family of Guerchy which trembles at
all that remains to me from my baptism—the title of man, &c.
&c. Let the diplomatic appointment from which I was unjustly
removed before the eyes of all Europe be restored to me; let me
follow my military career; I ask for nothing else, and shall be
content. I shall feel in greater safety clad as a dragoon, than
in petticoats, for I should not be subjected to that kind of
conversation to which women are generally entertained.... This
malady is not of my making, and my past life bears witness that
I am more worthy of wearing a helmet than a cap, and of dying
on the field of battle than on a feather-bed in a nunnery. It
appears that fate is continually making sport of me, and my
resignation to its cruel decrees, more grievous to me than
death itself, is the most complete proof of my devotion and
entire obedience to the orders of the King.... I hope that so
just a King will give heed to me in so extraordinary a case....
I cannot forgive the generous Beaumarchais, who knows that I
have often despised my sex, fortune, and death in the pursuit
of glory; no, I cannot forgive the generous Beaumarchais, who
knows how I have, upon six occasions, flown from one end of
the world to the other, travelling night and day to hasten, in
1755 and 1756, the reunion of France and Russia, and arrange
for the marching of one hundred thousand Muscovites against the
common enemy; and that by secret orders from my master, unknown
to the great Choiseul, I caused the last war to be prolonged
by three years, and that I then toiled, day and night, towards
the conclusion of peace.... Alas! had it not been for the
insurmountable timidity of my late good master, Louis XV., so
fatal to my welfare, which kept him from openly avowing me,
whilst ever supporting me in secret ... he would have given
me two or three times the amount, for the outfit of a female
such as I am, with whose history he had been acquainted from
his accession to the throne; a maiden whose conduct has been
irreproachable at all times and in all places, in town or
country, in the north or in the south, on the field or in the
cabinet of princes, of ministers, and of ambassadors; a maiden
who never tickled the ears of her King but with her pen, or
his enemies but with her sword!... I think that this good King
would have been a hundred times more liberal than the generous
Beaumarchais, towards a person who has been girl, man, woman,
soldier, diplomatist, secretary, minister, author—according
to the exigencies of the public or secret service of his
master.... If through pure obedience to the orders of the King,
I condemn myself to life in a cloister with companions in
adversity, I too clearly foresee that I am likely to repent and
be unhappy; but it is apparently the will of Providence, and I
am left without means of escape!’
After charging Beaumarchais with failing to carry out Article IV. of
their Covenant, inasmuch as a portion only of her debts had been paid
and not the whole, the Chevalière points out that for the purpose of
legalising the document to which they had affixed their signatures,
it was essential that the sentence of outlawry passed upon herself, in
default, for the publication of the volume entitled ‘Lettres, Mémoires,’
&c., should be rescinded, and that Beaumarchais should be relieved from
the ban of censure pronounced by the Parliament of Paris, the deprivation
of civil rights under which they were suffering rendering null and void
any and all their acts.
‘I have but one other request to make,’ she continued; ‘I beg
that the son of the Count de Guerchy will explain himself
clearly and honestly, through you, as I am about to do. I
am aware that, accompanied by his mother and by the Duke
de Nivernois, he called on the Counts de Maurepas and de
Vergennes, to give those ministers to understand that he felt
bound in honour to fight me; that those two ministers were
good enough to tranquillise Madame de Guerchy by saying that
they believed her son to be too just and honourable a man to
draw his sword upon a woman, whereupon she withdrew expressing
her thanks and greatly comforted. I now wish to give you my
true and unchangeable opinion on this matter. I have always
respected the birth, the qualities, and the virtues of the
Countess de Guerchy. Her son was so young at the time of
my differences with his father, that, far from wishing to
hurt that dear and only son, I should save his life were it
in danger, and in my power to do so. I will never think of
attacking him, but I will defend myself at any moment that he
may be the aggressor. Nothing can be more just or natural than
that the son should take to heart the defence of his father;
therefore, that he may feel perfectly easy—should he think
that he is in honour bound to vindicate the wickedness and the
crimes of the late Count de Guerchy, by resorting to arms, I
give him my word of honour that I shall have the pleasure of
fighting him whenever he pleases, provided he comes to England,
the theatre of the scenes of horror acted to my prejudice, and
the best field in Europe for such a proceeding, for you must
perfectly well understand that to meet in France, or elsewhere
than in my island, would be a delusion and a snare.... I
further give him my word of honour not to lay aside my
uniform, and will never, from lack of courage, look for
protection in the dress of my sex.... I await, through you, a
categorical answer, from him, upon a matter of such importance
to myself. Through life I have been as touchy on the subject of
military honour, as should be a maiden on her chastity....’
Referring to the intemperate language Beaumarchais had employed with
regard to the notice in the daily papers:—
‘Nobody has ever dared to speak to me in such terms. I hope
it will be the last time, unless you are inclined to fight me
before young de Guerchy makes his appearance....’ Then warming
up amorously—‘it would be a fearful blow to my feelings to
have to fight the one I love best, to confront him who calls
himself my deliverer, and this deliverer would never think of
fighting his little _dragonne_, however redoubtable she may
be in her uniform.... I repeat to you what Rosina is made to
say in your “Barber of Seville”—“You are made to be loved....”
Such contrasts in an irritable disposition, which, in spite
of me, exists in me and is precisely that of my mother and
sister, will no doubt provide material to such a philosopher
as yourself, for a thousand reflections on the unintelligible
character of women. Attribute everything to our hysterics and
weaknesses. _Quid levius fumo? Flamen. Quid flamine? Ventus.
Quid vento? Mulier. Quid muliere? Nihil...._’
Beaumarchais reminded Mademoiselle D’Eon, in his reply to this
interminable composition so full of recriminations, of his ceaseless
efforts in her behalf to obtain advantageous concessions from the King—he
called her to a sense of her duty, and allowed her eight days to express
her regret at what she had written. He bitterly reproached her for
allowing that she had not given up the whole of the King’s papers, since
she had signed a declaration to that effect. Confiding in her good faith,
which, however, had proved bad, he had given the deed for a life-annuity
of 12,000 livres, paid 128,000 livres in liquidation of her debts, and
supplied her with the safe-conduct....
‘Far from placing to the King’s account the 120,000 livres I
have so foolishly handed over, I must acknowledge my culpable
excess of confidence, and as a matter of course reimburse his
Majesty, unless I avail myself of your situation. This I shall
be able to do by means of the very service I have rendered
to you, in causing a precarious pension to be converted
into a bond that is now absolutely your private property.
This beneficial change having freed you from dependence on
ministers, places you, as are all investors in this kingdom,
in dependence on the law and its tribunals. I shall forbid the
payment of dividends, and with your notes and Lord Ferrers’
receipt in hand, shall enter an action against you and claim
the repayment of 120,000 livres disbursed on your account—this,
or the entire observance of the terms of our Covenant. You will
thus learn, to your cost, whether my acts are of weight in
France....’
Again a few passages from D’Eon’s lengthy rejoinders, also dated at
Staunton Harold, and we close, for a time at least, the ill-humoured
correspondence of two royal secret agents, who were simply practising
towards each other _ruse contre ruse_.
‘... I offer no reply to your reproaches nor to your misplaced
invectives. I consider them to be the effects of bad humour on
the part of the cleverest and most agreeable ape I have ever
met in my life.... I have already had the honour to inform you,
that so long as Art. IV. of our Covenant, which distinctly
states that you are to supply me with larger sums for the
liquidation of my debts, is not executed, I do not feel bound
to observe any of the terms in the transaction. You are the
contracting power, I am the executrix; it is therefore for
you to act and for me to execute.... Your reproaches on the
incomplete delivery of papers are badly founded; in the first
place, because neither you, nor any ministers—past, present, or
future—nor the Prince de Conti, not even the Count de Broglio,
can be aware of all that passed in 1755 and 1756, of a secret
nature, between the late King, the Empress Elizabeth and the
Grand Chancellor of Russia, Count Woronzoff. M. Tercier, the
Chevalier Douglas and I were alone engaged in this important
secret negotiation, of which M. Rouillé, at that time Minister
for Foreign Affairs, had not the slightest cognisance. It was
only in 1757 that the Count de Broglio was partly admitted into
the secret, and that he, by order of the King, associated me
in his own secret correspondence.... I have not deceived you,
because with twenty letters I have warned the Count de Broglio,
the minister at Versailles and you as well, that so long as the
sum to which I lay legitimate claim is not paid, I shall never
make a complete surrender of my papers.... When you will have
aged and become grey by long service in the army and diplomacy,
you will have learnt that where a third-class power treats for
peace with a first-class power, the third-class power always
secures the guarantee of two second-class powers for the
observance of the conditions.... Now, since I consider my power
to be the weakest, and least important on earth, as compared
to that with which I have the honour to treat, and that I am
unable to secure the guarantee of any power, great or small,
I entrust myself to my own prudence and experience. Consult
all good diplomatists at Versailles or elsewhere in Europe, to
find out whether I am in the wrong and as silly as you take
me to be.... Should his Majesty and his ministers persist in
the consummation of our Covenant, I will fulfil my part from a
sense of obedience, but you are equally bound to concede to me
my just demands....[316]
‘LE CHEVALIER ET CHEVALIÈRE D’EON.’
The astute and yet outwitted Beaumarchais had become thoroughly persuaded
that not only was the Chevalier a female, but also one of the most
unmanageable of her sex. For her own part, D’Eon was now as thoroughly
convinced that the end of Beaumarchais’ mission would be the consummation
of all her hopes, all her desires. She still needed a good sum of money
for satisfying her creditors, and yet, what prospect had she of obtaining
it from one whose harshness as taskmaster was only to be equalled by his
exceeding great parsimony as purse-bearer! However stern and unflinching,
Beaumarchais had seldom behaved otherwise than with consideration towards
the distinguished heroine with whom he had undertaken to treat, whose
past services and misfortunes had awakened in him a feeling of something
more than ordinary interest, and which, through vanity, he had not the
sense to dissemble. Keenly alive to all this, D’Eon was resolved to
profit by the favourable impression she had made, therefore, changing her
tone from bluster to gentleness, she coyly approached Beaumarchais:—
‘... I own that a woman sometimes finds herself in such an
unfortunate position, that the force of circumstances obliges
her to avail herself of services of which she is the first to
feel the absurdity, because she knows what prompts the offer
of them. The more clever and attentive the man who wishes to
serve her, the greater her danger. But what thoughts do not
these recollections awaken? They remind me that through blind
confidence in you and in your promises, I revealed to you the
mystery of my sex, that in token of gratitude I gave you my
portrait, and that you promised yours as a mark of your regard.
There never has been any other engagement between us. All you
have alleged in addition, on the subject of our approaching
marriage as related to me from Paris, cannot be considered
by me otherwise than as idle jesting on your part. If you
thought I was in earnest in offering a token of remembrance
and gratitude, your conduct is pitiful; it is contemptible
and faithless, such as no Parisian would forgive, however
accustomed she might be to the ways now in fashion amongst
husbands; how much less a maiden with so strict a sense of
virtue as is mine, and whose spirit is haughty when her
integrity and tender-heartedness is assailed. Why did I not
remember that men are only fit to deceive womankind!... So far,
I only thought of doing justice to your merits, admiring your
talents and your generosity; I no doubt already loved you—but
the feeling was so novel to me, and I was a long way from
believing that love could be begotten in the midst of distress
and pain....’
[Sidenote: RUMOURS OF MARRIAGE.]
Beaumarchais had married three wives—and lost them, and was evidently a
man who sought after feminine sympathy, a craving that became manifest to
D’Eon, who deemed it worth her while to gratify it—and she succeeded.
‘Everybody tells me,’ he wrote to Vergennes, ‘that this insane
woman is in love with me. She fancies that I have slighted
her, and women never forgive an offence of that sort. I am far
from slighting her, but who the d——l would ever have supposed
that for the sake of serving my King zealously I should have
to become the gallant knight of a captain of dragoons? The
case is so ridiculous that I find it very difficult to write
seriously.’[317]
That marriage was contemplated became a common topic in Paris, and while
none believed, few were prepared to doubt, or treat such gossip with
contempt. We are able to quote from two letters in which the subject is
mentioned by the writers, who had known D’Eon intimately during many
years.
‘Two pieces of news to communicate, my dear Chevalier! The
first is, that I have become a widow; the second, it is
reported in Paris, and word has been written to me from London,
that you wish Constance (her daughter) to be one also, you
being about to marry Caron de Beaumarchais. Really, this sort
of thing is never done....’[318]
And her landlord, Mr. Lautem, in whose house she had lived almost
unintermittingly since the autumn of 1763, says to her:—
‘... Every letter from Paris gives us to understand that M.
Beaumarchais is come to London to be married to you. My reply
is that I do not consider him sufficiently handsome (_beau_).
M. de Morande told me this morning that M. de Beaumarchais was
about leaving, and would not be here upon your return. I told
him I had not heard from you....’[319]
So long as Beaumarchais abstained from advancing the ‘other large sums’
promised in Article IV. of the Covenant, so long did the Chevalière
refuse to carry out her engagement to discard her uniform for female
attire; a refusal adopted by the King’s envoy as his motive for
forbearing from taking any further interest in his refractory client.
Loménie argues that it was precisely because she could not be prevailed
upon to clothe herself in the garments of her sex, that no money was
forthcoming; but it may fairly be contended, upon D’Eon’s argument,
that Beaumarchais being the contracting power, were he to prove true
to his obligations, she, as executrix, would necessarily be obliged to
observe her engagements under pain of being deprived of the enjoyment
of her annuity. It is not easy to account for the meanness and want of
generosity displayed by Beaumarchais in his dealings with the Chevalière,
his penuriousness leading him even to neglect the bonds he had given to
Lord Ferrers, and upon the faith of which he was allowed to have the iron
safe.
[Sidenote: BEAUMARCHAIS IMPUGNED.]
Baser conduct in Beaumarchais was his participation in the interminable
and ever-increasing sex policies, the Chevalière entreating him, over and
over, to abstain from mixing himself up in affairs that sorely afflicted
her. Thoroughly persuaded that D’Eon was of the female sex, Beaumarchais
added insult to injury by offering her eight thousand louis d’or and a
share in all his profits, if she would submit herself to the verdict of a
qualified jury nominated for the purpose by the policy-holders—proposals
that were repelled with the contempt they deserved, and in the same
spirit in which similar advances were repulsed in 1771, when the
accommodation bribe amounted to fifteen thousand guineas. As bad was the
confederacy into which Beaumarchais suffered himself to be drawn, having
become associated in these foul speculations with the needy adventurer
Morande; and it being the Chevalier’s practice, with his _cacoëthes
scribendi_, to commit to paper every circumstance, every incident, small
or great, in which he chanced to be concerned, he drew up and afterwards
distributed a declaration, which was to show forth how Morande and
Beaumarchais had endeavoured, in defiance of him, to practise fraud in
their speculations on his sex.
‘We, the undersigned, Charles-Geneviève, &c. D’Eon de Beaumont,
formerly captain of dragoons, &c.; François de la Chèvre, of
Queen Street, Golden Square; Jacques Dupré, Esq., of New Bond
Street; and Jean de Vignolles, Esq., of Warwick Street, do
hereby declare on our word of honour, that being at dinner
with the Chevalier D’Eon, of Brewer Street, Golden Square,
on Thursday, April 11, of the current year, 1776, and being
in the company of the said Chevalier D’Eon and of M. Charles
Théveneau de Morande, Esq., of Duke Street, Oxford Road, whom
we know to be the intimate friend and confidant of M. Caron
de Beaumarchais, known to us as having been entrusted by the
King of France to treat with the said Chevalier D’Eon for his
return to France—the conversation turned on the revival, in
November 1775, of the policies in regard to the sex of the said
Chevalier D’Eon; that the said Chevalier D’Eon then declared to
us that M. Caron de Beaumarchais and M. de Morande, who were
present, had tried to induce him, the said Chevalier D’Eon, to
associate himself with them in the traffic of these policies,
representing to him that such a measure would infallibly lead
to the gain of large sums of money. The said M. de Morande
having eluded giving a categorical answer, the said Chevalier
D’Eon sharply called upon the said M. de Morande to declare,
frankly and clearly, whether he, Charles Théveneau de Morande,
had not proposed to the said Chevalier D’Eon, in October 1775,
at the time that M. Caron de Beaumarchais was in this country
engaged in his negotiations, that he should make common cause
with him in the policies on his sex? To which M. de Morande
gave an affirmative and unequivocal answer. Whereupon, the
Chevalier D’Eon having said that he had too much respect for
himself ever to have dreamt of participating in the infamy with
which the said Caron de Beaumarchais and the said de Morande
sought to cover him, inquired whether, notwithstanding his
refusal, he and his friend M. de Beaumarchais had not been
foolish enough to deal in the said policies on his sex—to
which we heard M. de Morande reply, that such, had in reality,
been his intentions; but, to avoid all risks, he had consulted
several eminent English lawyers as to whether, in the event of
those policies being won, the law would constrain the losers
to meet their liabilities, and that a unanimous reply in the
negative was alone the cause of his having abandoned the idea
of making money by the said policies; and he showed a good
deal of ill-humour at the persistent refusal of the Chevalier
D’Eon to countenance the disreputable transactions which he, de
Morande, and his confederate de Beaumarchais, contemplated, on
the female sex of the said Chevalier.[320]
‘JACQUES DUPRÉ.
‘J. DE VIGNOLLES.
‘DE LA CHÈVRE.
‘LE CHEVALIER D’EON.’
‘London, May 8, 1776.’