If the conclusion of peace with England presented difficulties, the choice of the arbitrator was an excellent one. The Duc de Nivernais met with a thoroughly good reception in English society, which was able to appreciate the qualities of a true nobleman, and recognised them in the person of the new French ambassador. The son of the Duc de Nevers and of a princess of the Spinola family, he had married Hélène de Pontchartrain. To the influence which his birth and his alliance gave him he had been able to add the intimate friendship of Madame de Pompadour, gained by organising those dramatic entertainments at Versailles by means of which the favourite succeeded in retaining the King’s interest. In the numerous notes which she sent him the marquise hardly ever omitted to call him “my dear little husband”; nicknames had been brought into fashion by the King himself, and this one serves to show on what an intimate footing the duke was treated at the palace. He had talents, however, more genuine and more rare than the qualities necessary to a good courtier.
As ambassador to the Holy See in 1748, at the time that the Unigenitus bull was promulgated, he succeeded at once in astonishing the Romans by the splendour of his retinue, and in gaining the confidence of Pope Benedict XIV. by the ability of his diplomacy. Sent afterwards to Berlin, he managed to captivate Frederick, but unfortunately too late to detach Prussia from the English alliance, an understanding secretly arrived at. The failure of his mission was due entirely to the tardiness and hesitation of the King’s government. For this reason nobody blamed him for it, and the general opinion was that he was the man most likely to obtain the least stringent terms for a treaty which had become indispensable to France. An accomplished nobleman and able negotiator, a witty talker and charming writer, as well as a good horseman and musician, he was at home in every society. No one then had a better chance of reconciling two nations which pride themselves equally on being judges of good breeding, and the English gave him a warm reception, Horace Walpole going so far as to say that France had sent them the best she had to offer.
Nivernais had been selected as the most able ambassador, and d’Eon was appointed to assist him as the cleverest and best-informed secretary.
Having already taken part, on several occasions, in extremely delicate and important transactions, he was likely to be an invaluable adviser for his chief and to develop in his ingenious mind many an expedient for the negotiation. They embarked at Calais together on September 11, 1762, and reached London as soon as the 14th, thanks to the swift horses of the Duke of Bedford. If the English seemed eager to receive the ambassador of France, they were not in so great a hurry to proceed with the negotiations for peace. The Opposition, which desired to continue the war, were on the watch for an opportunity for breaking them off and for upsetting Lord Bute’s ministry. The news of the taking of Havana, which was received in London on October 1, turned everyone’s head, and the King and the cabinet became more exacting under pressure of public opinion, demanding Florida, which France had still, under difficulties, to obtain from Spain. “That wretched Havana, my little husband,” wrote Madame de Pompadour to the Duc de Nivernais, “I am alarmed about it.” It was important that the preliminaries of peace should be signed before the opening of Parliament, the Opposition being intent upon overthrowing the ministry, and resuming hostilities. Nivernais was afraid, besides, that another British naval victory would make the terms of the treaty still less favourable: “I fear now,” he wrote to Choiseul, “that Lisbon will be taken before that confounded signature.”
Lisbon was not taken, for on November 5 Choiseul was able to inform Nivernais that the preliminaries of peace had just been signed at Fontainebleau, adding, with self-complacency somewhat irritating for the ambassador, whose task in London had proved less profitable, that he had been raised on that occasion to the peerage, with the title of Duc de Praslin. A large share of the success of this first agreement, which, notwithstanding all that it cost France, was regarded at the French court as highly advantageous, was due indeed to the mission of the Duc de Nivernais. Are we to believe that in order to induce the English ministers to conclude peace, in spite of the Opposition, the French ambassador was obliged to bribe them, as was boldly asserted in London some years later, at the time of the action for libel brought against Dr. Musgrave? It would not have been in the least improbable, for it is known that more than once during the long struggle which fills the history of the eighteenth century, England and France endeavoured to bribe one another. At all events d’Eon relates how he succeeded one day, at the Duc de Nivernais’ house, in alluring Mr. Wood, Under Secretary of State, by the offer of some good wine from Tonnerre, and how he took copies, while this latter was drinking copiously, of the papers he had brought in his portfolio. Among these there happened to be the ultimatum about to be transmitted to the Duke of Bedford, the British ambassador at the court of Versailles. Thanks to this impudent trick, Choiseul, already apprised of all the difficulties about to be raised, was enabled to come to terms with the Duke of Bedford, expeditiously and without taking any risks. This amusing story was given considerable publicity throughout France, and the papers of the Opposition soon published it in England, taking advantage of it to heckle the cabinet.
The preliminaries signed, there was nothing more for the two governments to do but to come to an agreement on certain minor points and the actual wording of the treaty. This task, somewhat ungrateful and difficult on account of Choiseul’s anxiety about recovering some of the concessions he had made in his great haste to negotiate before the opening of Parliament, kept Nivernais and d’Eon occupied for three more months; the definite treaty being signed only on February 10. This disastrous peace, which cost France a fine colonial empire full of still finer possibilities, was welcomed there with transports of joy, while in England it raised genuine reprobation. D’Eon was too ambitious not to turn to good account the transactions in which he had taken part. Two personal experiences had taught him that it was always profitable to bear good news to the court, and that the King showed his pleasure on such occasions by granting favours to the messenger. He had won a lieutenancy in the dragoons by bringing to Versailles the Empress Elizabeth’s ratification to the Treaty of Versailles, and three years later a life-pension of two thousand livres by discharging a similar commission. The new treaty which had been so earnestly desired and so well received in France should evidently obtain from him still greater advantages, only he must reach the King himself, not surreptitiously, as the agent of the secret correspondence, but before the whole court, as the accredited secretary of an official embassy. D’Eon, who thought nothing was impossible, urged his chief to request the British Government to grant him the favour of conveying the ratifications to the treaty to Versailles. Such a selection on the part of a foreign government for a mission regarded as highly honorific was unprecedented and contrary to all usage. Nevertheless, the ambassador consented to make the application, however irregular, although the Duc de Praslin considered it to be doomed to failure. The Minister for Foreign Affairs put Nivernais on his guard, assuring him that the court of St. James’ would certainly not entrust such a mission to a French secretary. It would appear also that the minister, out of patience at the aspirations with which premature successes had inspired d’Eon, was anxious to put him in his place. “He is young,” he wrote, “and has still time enough to be of good service and to earn distinction. I take an interest in his welfare and will gladly put him in the way of gaining advance by time and work.”
In spite of de Praslin’s sceptical conjectures, the Duc de Nivernais obtained for “his little d’Eon” the difficult favour he had requested. This success was a clearer indication of Nivernais’ great influence at the court of St. James’ than any testimonial; and the ambassador did not omit to banter the minister on his incredulity:
I am very glad you were stupid enough to believe it impossible that the French secretary—my little d’Eon—should be the bearer of the King of England’s ratifications. The fact is, you did not fully realise the great kindness and esteem which your ambassador enjoys here, and it is just as well that you have done so, for otherwise you would be capable of despising me all your life, while now you will doubtless have some regard for me.
D’Eon reached Paris on February 26, as bearer of the ratifications. Praslin did not fail to remark that he had made “great haste,” but, without grudging him his success, exerted himself in his behalf. On March 1, he informed Nivernais that the Cross of Saint Louis and a gratuity were to be conferred upon his little d’Eon by the King: “I think he will be satisfied,” he added; “as for me, I am delighted, for he is a handsome young fellow and a hard worker, and I am his well-wisher.” D’Eon met with a warm reception at court, and took good care not to forget the commissions with which his chiefs had charged him. He gave Madame de Pompadour news of the wretched health of her “little husband,” and delivered to her some purses from England which she pronounced to be very ugly and “coarse as ropes.” The favourite thought d’Eon was “an excellent person,” and considered it “a great act of politeness on the part of the English to entrust him with the treaty.” Congratulating Nivernais upon having terminated his work, she urged him to return and “repair his health by the good air of France.”
As the Duc de Nivernais had accomplished to his master’s satisfaction the delicate and difficult negotiation for which he had been sent to London, the Duc de Praslin could not think of prolonging an embassy from which his friend had reaped every advantage and honour, and which was hardly better than an honourable exile for that wealthy and literary nobleman. The choice of a successor had, moreover, preoccupied Nivernais himself for several months. He had thought of his friend, the Comte de Guerchy, lieutenant-general of the King’s armies, who had earned distinction in the Seven Years’ War, and enjoyed a great reputation for courage at Versailles. A fearless soldier, Guerchy had never been afforded the opportunity of proving himself a diplomat, and even his friends doubted his qualifications for that career. Such was the opinion of de Praslin, who replied, on January 8, 1763, to the proposals which the Duc de Nivernais had just made:
I am still much concerned about Guerchy. I am not sure, however, that we are doing him a good service by appointing him ambassador in London.... I dread his despatches like fire, and you know how defective despatches injure a man and his work. A minister is often judged less by the manner in which he conducts business than by the account he gives of it.... But he cannot write at all; we must not deceive ourselves on this point.
Nevertheless, Guerchy was named for the post—first, because it was not deemed desirable that Nivernais’ candidate should be rejected—the ambassador being in high favour at Versailles—secondly, because Praslin, in spite of his too just opinion of Guerchy’s merits, was glad to oblige two of his intimate friends at the same time. On February 16, 1763, the Duc de Nivernais was apprised of this selection in London. It was settled that d’Eon should remain at the embassy for the purpose of assisting his new chief, and wielding the pen in his stead. In the interim he was even left in charge, and, upon Nivernais’ earnest recommendation, Praslin agreed to give him the title of Resident Minister. D’Eon was still in France when Nivernais recalled him to London to commit the embassy to his care. He was somewhat long in complying with his chief’s order, and even gave out that he was ill. In reality, the intrigues of the secret diplomacy were detaining him in Paris.
The Comte de Broglie was at that time an exile in his estates in Normandy. He had been involved in the disgrace of his brother, the marshal, to whom the Marquise de Pompadour, notwithstanding facts and the force of public opinion, had attributed the responsibilities really incurred by Soubise during the Seven Years’ War. Louis XV., unable to oppose the favourite openly, but unwilling to be deprived of his secret minister’s services, resigned himself to transferring the headquarters of his private diplomacy to the Château de Broglie. It was during this temporary seclusion that the Comte de Broglie matured a plan for the invasion of England which had been formed a long time before, but the recent hostilities had prevented its execution. If the conclusion of peace put back the opportunity for doing so, it allowed, at least, of the conditions and means likely to lead to a successful issue being studied on the spot. The King and the minister understood better than the nation the fatal terms of the Treaty of Versailles, and were anxious to prepare themselves quickly for counteracting its effects. Accordingly Louis XV. examined with interest the plan submitted to him, and sent it back to Tercier with his approval. It was at this latter’s house that d’Eon and the Comte de Broglie, who was passing through Paris at the time, met for the purpose of organising this perilous mission. D’Eon’s position in London and his experience of intrigues of this description enabled him to conduct the researches, and a colleague was given to him—his cousin, the Sieur d’Eon de Mouloize, who should take charge of the documents in the event of the discovery of the scheme. As for the technical part, it was to be entrusted to an engineer, Carrelet de la Rozière. Lastly, the basis of a cypher to be employed in the affair was arranged. The King gave his instructions himself:
The Chevalier d’Eon will receive through the Comte de Broglie or M. Tercier my orders on the surveys to be made in England, whether on the coast or in the interior of the country, and he will comply with the instructions he will receive to that end, as if he received them direct from me. It is my desire that he shall observe the greatest secrecy in this affair, and that he shall not make any communications thereon to any living person, not even to my ministers wheresoever they may be.
These instructions were precisely stated and commented upon by the Comte de Broglie in a letter which he sent, on May 7, 1763, to the Chevalier d’Eon in London. He recommended him to observe the utmost prudence in his conduct, apprising him that the Comte de Guerchy’s suspicious character would render his secret mission extremely difficult, and urged him to take every conceivable precaution for the safety of the papers connected with the correspondence. The Count appointed him tutor to M. de la Rozière, adding: “He is a somewhat wild pupil, but you will be pleased with him.” In conclusion he congratulated himself upon having d’Eon as “lieutenant in so important an affair, which may contribute to the safety and even to the prosperity of the nation,” and thanked him for the zeal and devotion which he had never ceased to show to the Marshal de Broglie and to himself.
D’Eon’s attachment to the exiled de Broglies had awakened the suspicions of the Duc de Praslin, and the Minister for Foreign Affairs did not hesitate to subject the young representative of the King at the court of St. James’ to a regular interrogatory, in the presence of his senior clerk, Sainte-Foy, and the Comte de Guerchy. He began by abruptly asking him to give an account of the battle of Villinghausen, at which he was present while serving in the dragoons. D’Eon did not require much pressing, and boldly laid to the charge of Soubise all the blunders officially imputed to the Duc de Broglie. Praslin, who was striding impatiently up and down the room, suddenly interrupted him, exclaiming: “I know it to have been just the opposite of what you say, and this from one of my intimate friends who was also there.” And he turned to the Comte de Guerchy. “But, my dear d’Eon, you surely did not witness all you tell me.”
“The minister pulled a long face,” d’Eon relates, “and gave a sardonic smile, for I persisted in assuring him, as I shall do to the end of my days, that I had indeed seen and heard what I had told him.” The duke concluded by saying: “It is your attachment to the Broglies that makes you speak as you do.” “Faith, sir,” d’Eon replied, “it is my attachment to the truth. You question me, and I can only tell you what I myself know.”
Upon leaving the minister, Sainte-Foy rebuked d’Eon and advised him not to remain “in a country where he would never make his fortune, but to return to England.”
Another attempt to discover d’Eon’s real sentiments towards the Broglie party was made—more discreetly this time—by the Duchesse de Nivernais, who, chancing one day to be alone with him, asked if he was not in correspondence with M. de Broglie. “No, madam,” replied d’Eon, “and I am sorry for it, as I am very fond of Marshal de Broglie, but I do not wish to weary him with my letters; I am satisfied with writing to him on New Year’s Day.” “I am very glad to hear this for your sake, my dear little friend,” continued the duchess. “Let me tell you in confidence that intimacy with the House of Broglie might be of injury to you at court, and in the estimation of Guerchy, your future ambassador.”
D’Eon had barely arrived in London, where the Duc de Nivernais, longing for departure, was impatiently awaiting him, when he was invested “in the prescribed forms” with the Cross of the Order of Saint Louis by his chief, at his own request. He had brought with him presents from the King to the Sardinian minister, one of the negotiators of the peace. Count Viry accepted “his Majesty’s favours with great pleasure and gratitude.” The presents consisted of the King’s portrait set in diamonds, accompanied by an autograph letter, a Gobelin tapestry, and a Savonnerie carpet. The first idea of the happy recipient of these gifts was to go to the Prime Minister, Lord Bute, and show them to him. The latter, Nivernais relates, “took them at once to the King of England, who considered they were magnificent and the letter charming.”
On May 4, the Duc de Nivernais was received in a farewell audience by George III., and two weeks later he set out for France, tired of London fogs, and happy to be again at Versailles, and at the Academy, and on his beautiful estate at St. Maur.
D’Eon became his own master in London, and began immediately to play the part and to lead the life of an ambassador. He kept open house, and among his visitors there were de Fleury, the Chevalier Carrion, a friend of the Duc de Nivernais, “a deputation of the Academy of Sciences which was to go to the Equator for the purpose of measuring the terrestrial meridian,” scholars and men of letters, among them Duclos, Le Camus, Lalande, and La Condamine. The Comtesse de Boufflers, who had captivated the Prince de Conti and the frequenters of the Hôtel du Temple by her wit and elegance, did not disdain, when on a visit to London, to do the honours of the embassy, as the following note testifies:—
Madame de Boufflers and Lady Mary Coke will come to dine with M. d’Eon on Monday if that suits him, and will bring Lady Susannah Stuart. Madame de Boufflers will, perhaps, avail herself of M. d’Eon’s offer by bringing two other friends of hers if they have returned to town, which she, however, thinks unlikely. She presents her compliments to M. d’Eon, and begs to say that she will help him to do the honours of the dinner to the ladies, both as a fellow-countrywoman and as one quite ready to be counted among his friends.
She has to inform M. d’Eon that Lord Holderness has returned, and that he therefore should be invited.
Thanks to the Duc de Nivernais, who did not consider himself quits with him, and was still exerting himself on his behalf in France, he received letters in July accrediting him minister plenipotentiary to the King of England.
Fortune and distinctions had come apace to “little d’Eon.” In less than two years he had risen from the post of secretary of embassy to that of Louis XV.’s representative to his Britannic Majesty, and had exchanged the title and uniform of a captain of dragoons for the position of a minister plenipotentiary. The obscure gentleman of Tonnerre could henceforth entertain on an equal footing the ambassadors of the highest rank and the great dignitaries of the court of St. James’. He took care not to miss the opportunity, and on August 25, St. Louis’ day, he gave a gala dinner, at which Lord Hertford, Lord March, David Hume, and the whole diplomatic corps were present. So sudden a success intoxicated him. But everything was extraordinary in the career of this young man of quite mediocre extraction, who, employed occasionally in secret diplomacy, was afterwards received into the regular service by favour; rewarded for his services by a lieutenancy of dragoons, and who, when barely thirty-six, was representing the King of France at the most magnificent court of Europe, after that of Versailles, and carrying on the mission of the Duc de Nivernais, a peer of the realm. D’Eon did not realise how surprising this rapid ascent through the most rigid aristocracy and the most exclusive classes appeared to the onlookers, nor how scandalous to his rivals. It was more in keeping with his character to abuse his advantages than to preserve them. His survey of the ground that had been covered, the remembrance of innumerable obstacles he had surmounted, far from teaching him prudence, only increased his presumption. He did not believe he was at the zenith of his fortune, but merely at the outset. His head was turned, although, anticipating reproaches, he denied it. He wished to access himself in the eyes of the English, his countrymen, his minister, and even of his King.
He continued to assume the position of ambassador until they should decide to confer the title upon him, and so raise him to the same rank as the premier lords of France. But if his determination never waned, if the resources of his active mind never diminished throughout this wild enterprise, his money was rapidly dwindling away. The almoner, the equerry, the five cooks and butlers, the four footmen, the porter, the two coachmen, the two grooms, and others, who formed his household, had to be paid, and, as his emoluments were insufficient for the purpose, d’Eon was obliged to apply to the Duc de Praslin for additional subsidies. He did so with admirably feigned moderation and disinterestedness, explaining that the appointment of minister plenipotentiary, for which he had never asked, compelled him, much against his will, to wear a few decent clothes and a little lace:
The appointment of minister plenipotentiary, for which I never asked, has certainly not turned my head, thanks to a little philosophy; it has only involved me in heavier expenses, as the enclosed account testifies. When I was secretary of embassy I went about plainly dressed in my uniform and cambric cuffs; now, much against my will, I must wear a few decent clothes and a little lace. If the King’s affairs are in a bad state, mine are going from bad to worse. Your kindness and your sense of justice will not suffer this. Soon I shall complete ten years’ service as a diplomatist, without having become richer or more proud. Many promises have been made to me, but promises and promisers have vanished. Till now I have sown much and reaped little. When the happy time comes for my release from politics, I shall be obliged to abscond and become bankrupt, unless you are humane enough to help me with some additional donation. The more zealously and courageously I work, the poorer I become: my youth is passing away, and I have nothing left but bad health, which is growing worse every day, and debts to the amount of over twenty thousand livres. These various little debts have been worrying me for so long that my mental capacities are completely absorbed and are no longer free, as I should wish, to serve the King’s interests. The time of reckoning appearing to be imminent, I entreat you to decide upon my present and future prospects, and upon the favours I am to expect from your sense of justice and kind-heartedness....
The Duc de Praslin was all the less inclined to grant the request as he had received at the same time serious complaints against d’Eon from the Comte de Guerchy. Not satisfied with incurring debts, the Chevalier had already spent a part of the future ambassador’s stipend. He regarded these emoluments as his own, for he would not admit that after being in the first rank he was once more in a subordinate position, that “he should descend from peer to peasant.” He persisted with Burgundian tenacity in his fanciful dream of gaining the title as well as the functions of ambassador, and of succeeding his former chief, Nivernais, in London. In spite of the warnings which he received from every quarter, and of the counsels of moderation which his best-informed and most devoted patrons, Sainte-Foy, the chief secretary of the Foreign Office, and the Duc de Nivernais himself, continually urged upon him, he would not yield and ended by receiving a well-deserved reproof from the Duc de Praslin:
I could never have believed that the title of minister plenipotentiary would cause you so quickly to forget the point whence you started, and I had no reason to expect that your aspirations would increase in proportion as you received new favours. In the first place, I gave you no ground for anticipating 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. In the second place, you complain to me of empty promises having been made, but surely such has not been my way of dealing with you. Remember that I received you at Vienna when I had no reason for obliging you, for you were a perfect stranger to me. Upon your arrival you were ill, and I looked after you. When you left me you were uncertain as to your prospects here, and it was I who obtained the pension which was conferred upon you. Two years afterwards, being without employment, you applied to me, and I gave you the most suitable post and the most favourable opportunity for rising to notice. Lastly, when you brought the ratification of the treaty with England to us, the expenses of your journey were paid, and his Majesty rewarded you as if you had made ten campaigns in the field. If you are not yet satisfied, I shall be obliged to discontinue employing you, for fear of being unable to recompense your services adequately. But I prefer to believe you will feel the truth of my statements, and put your trust in future rather in my good will than in such groundless claims. I must not forget to mention that I have not noticed that the character of plenipotentiary involved M. de Neuville in any expenses here; his style of living is the same as when he was in the service of the Duke of Bedford. I cannot conceive the necessity for this extraordinary outlay at the expense of the Comte de Guerchy, which is quite out of place. I do not conceal from you my displeasure at your having involved in so great expenditure one in whom I take such an interest, and who trusted in you on my recommendation. I hope that you will be more circumspect in your demands for the future, and more sparing in your use of other people’s money, and that you will endeavour to be as useful to him as you have been to the Duc de Nivernais.
The Duc de Praslin was singularly mistaken if he expected to have the last word with his impetuous correspondent. D’Eon, far from giving in, was exasperated by such sensible advice, and, giving full vent to his ill-humour, replied the same day:
As soon as I learned, Monsieur le Duc, that the title of minister plenipotentiary was to be conferred upon me against my will, I had the honour of writing to the Duc de Nivernais that I regarded the title rather as a misfortune than as a boon.
The point whence I started, when very young, was my native town, Tonnerre, where I possess a small property and a house fully six times as large as that occupied in London by the Duc de Nivernais. 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, which I left against his will to make three journeys to Russia and to other courts in Europe, to join the army, to come to England, and to bring four or five treaties to Versailles, not as courier, but as a man who had contributed to the framing of them. I have frequently travelled when very ill, and once with a broken leg. Nevertheless, I am prepared to return to the place whence I started, if such be my fate. I shall recover my former happiness there. The points whence I started are those of being a gentleman, a soldier, and a secretary of Embassy—all of them naturally leading to the position of a minister at foreign courts. The first gives a claim to it; the second confirms the idea and endues with the necessary firmness for such a post; but the third is the school for it....
If a marquis had accomplished one-half the things which I have accomplished in ten years, he would ask no less than the title of duke or of marshal. As for me, my aspirations are so modest that I ask to be nothing at all here, not even secretary of Embassy.
D’Eon, who felt excited that day, and courted disgrace for the pleasure of indulging in witticisms, was not yet satisfied. By the same post he sent similar impertinencies to the Comte de Guerchy, who had not ceased exhorting him to be more circumspect in his behaviour:
... I take the liberty of observing to you on the character which chance has given me, that Solomon said, a long time ago, everything here below was vanity, opportunity, mere accident, 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 last ten years was perhaps not one of the blindest. What has come to me by chance might come to another by good luck....
A man, no matter who, can only form an estimate of himself by comparison with one or many 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 mean 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, or ten thousand men. The question is 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....
I have already had the honour, sir, of thanking you sincerely for all your kind offers of assistance. As to my prospects, I frankly confess I am a second edition of Sister Anne in Blue Beard, who was always watching but saw nothing coming, and this often induces me to sing that beautiful song: