D’Eon’s active mind, stimulated by success and hope, adapted itself ill, it is true, to this temporary rest, and the flattering reception he met with at Compiègne from the King and the court did not help him to restrain his impatience. He called at the Hôtel du Temple to acquaint Conti with the indifferent result of his mission, and to obtain the Prince’s directions for pursuing the affair, in view of his departure. The duchy of Courland and the command-in-chief of the Russian troops were no longer in question. Louis XV. seemed already to have lost his interest in that project, and, if he permitted d’Eon to see his former secret minister, he deferred giving him instructions with regard to it; and, through fear of embroiling the already critical situation at St. Petersburg, soon definitely abandoned the interests of a cousin who had ventured to incur the displeasure of Madame de Pompadour.

Meanwhile d’Eon’s departure had just been fixed for the end of September. The Minister for Foreign Affairs had granted his earnest request; Tercier, too, was anxious that he should rejoin his post; and the Marquis de L’Hospital, who had been impressed by his shrewdness and the experience of Russian affairs he had shown in their brief interview, was also urging him to return to St. Petersburg.

In point of fact, the marquis found himself, almost from the moment of his arrival, in an extremely false and annoying position. He had been despatched to Russia for the purpose of cementing the friendly relations between the two courts; but an apparently insignificant incident occurred which hindered his mission, and threatened to compromise an alliance so arduously obtained, and to wreck the new policy whereby past blunders were to be remedied.

Elizabeth, who had never been deterred from making advances to France—frequently complimentary, sometimes of pecuniary interest, but in either case politely evaded—had just found an opportunity for demonstrating her friendly feelings towards the King at the same time as her sympathy for her new allies. Godmother of the child to which the Grand Duchess was about to give birth, she desired that Louis XV. should stand godfather. She devoted to this end all the energy and tenacity of a woman intent upon the gratification of a whim, and when the council suggested the choice of some other god-parent she replied: “No, no; I will have none but Louis XV. and myself....” Upon this, Woronzow sounded the Marquis de L’Hospital, who communicated the imperial proposal to the Minister for Foreign Affairs.

With an obstinacy that would be unaccountable had he not given numerous examples of similar scruples, the King refused to accept “engagements which constrain him to see that, as far as possible, the child be brought up in the Catholic faith.” Elizabeth was greatly vexed by this repulse to her advances, and the motives were calculated to surprise her on the part of a monarch whom she had good reasons for believing to be even more sceptical than herself. She chose no other godfather, and the child was baptised in her arms. The Marquis de L’Hospital, fearing that the wound dealt her royal and feminine self-esteem would be adroitly envenomed by the party hostile to France led by Bestuchef, was impatiently awaiting d’Eon’s return, knowing his favour with the Empress. The able secretary did not disappoint his chief’s expectations; thoroughly acquainted with every intrigue of a palace in which he had been plotting for two years, he worked to such good purpose that Woronzow’s party got the upper hand again and soon became strong enough to attack the omnipotent Chancellor. At the time of his passing through the Russian lines, d’Eon had ascertained beyond doubt the existence of a secret correspondence between Apraxin and the Chancellor. The marshal’s inaction after the victory he had gained over the Prussian troops at Gros Jägersdorf, and the defeat to which he had exposed himself at Narva, made it manifest that instructions contrary to those he had received from his sovereign had been transmitted to him surreptitiously. Apprised by d’Eon, who had discovered the hiding-place of Bestuchef’s secret papers, Woronzow did not hesitate to denounce to the Czarina the treason which threatened completely to foil a campaign so successfully begun. Elizabeth passed over definitely to the French party, and Bestuchef’s disgrace was decreed a few days later.

When, in the course of an audience granted by the Empress to the Marquis de L’Hospital, upon his recovery after a long illness, the ambassador complained of ill usage on the part of the Chancellor which was quite inconsistent with the sovereign’s kindness, “Count Bestuchef, who, according to etiquette, was standing behind the Empress, on her right, rushed forward like a madman, and went out, with his eyes glittering, boding some catastrophe for the night.” He withdrew to his palace; but the next day the Empress bade him attend her council. He pleaded sickness, but was obliged to comply with a second order. The following account of his arrest, too graphic not to have been taken from life, has been handed down to us by La Messelière:—

The Chancellor’s papers left no room for doubt as to his secret schemes. Charged with high treason, it was owing to Elizabeth’s mercy that he was not condemned to death, and was exiled to Siberia. Over eighteen hundred persons were arrested; Apraxin had just committed suicide, and a movement more favourable to French interests was in course of formation at the instigation of Woronzow, who succeeded his rival in office.

D’Eon, whose part in this affair was so active and successful, had, according to La Messelière, unwittingly saved his own head. At all events, he had a claim upon Woronzow’s gratitude, and fresh titles to Elizabeth’s confidence; consequently the idea was mooted of attaching d’Eon to the service of Russia, and a formal request to that effect was made by the Marquis de L’Hospital to the Abbé de Bernis. The Minister for Foreign Affairs and M. Tercier, being at one in this matter, were not at all opposed to the scheme, suggested, no doubt, by the Czarina herself, whereby an agent esteemed at the same time by the ministry and the secret service should be established at her court. D’Eon, although flattered by this proposal, which he never omitted to mention in the rough drafts of his memoirs, did not think fit to accept it. The favour which he enjoyed at Versailles, a career brilliantly opened in diplomacy, the scope given to his aspirations in the army—all gave promise of a sufficiently enviable future for him in his own country. He knew, too, that foreigners seldom attained to high places in Russia. Fortune was particularly fickle there, and her wheel was more often than not broken on the road to Siberia. Lastly, his health was beginning to suffer from the effects of the severe climate; and he did not hesitate to refuse. “Had I a bastard brother,” he wrote to Tercier, “be assured I should prevail upon him to accept such an offer, but for myself, who am legitimate, I should be glad to die like a faithful dog in a ditch in my native land.” In thanking the Abbé de Bernis, “he begged him to dismiss him from his memory whenever there was a question of his destiny removing him entirely from France.”

The Minister for Foreign Affairs did not insist, and even congratulated him upon his attachment to his country. At that time, moreover, d’Eon had other projects in view. He was tired of Russia, where he feared his energies would be wasted for many years to come, while he aspired to other spheres of action. He had followed from his distant post the disastrous campaign of 1757, which ended in the crushing defeat of the French army at Rosbach. Couriers arriving at the embassy in March brought no better news. Hanover had just been evacuated, and the Comte de Clermont’s troops, compelled to quit Westphalia, had to cross the Rhine again. Everywhere hostilities were being resumed with fresh vigour. D’Eon, who had been for some time impatiently waiting an opportunity for making his first campaign, was longing to join his regiment before the end of the war: “To do so after peace had been declared would,” he said, “be too great a blow to his honour and his self-esteem.”

He determined, therefore, to apply (April 14) to the Minister for War for a captain’s commission. Marshal de Belle-Isle did not refuse him such rapid promotion. Less than three months afterwards d’Eon received a commission as captain on half-pay; but he had again to exercise patience and give up for the moment his warlike plans.

Circumstances prevented him from leaving St. Petersburg, the King’s secret diplomacy necessitating his presence near the ambassador on whom he was constantly to keep watch, and whose actions he had often to prompt. The Duc de Choiseul, Bernis’ successor as Minister for Foreign Affairs, had just informed the Marquis de L’Hospital of the treaty, signed December 30, 1758, which drew Louis XV. and Maria Theresa more closely together in a policy directed against Prussia. The ambassador’s task was to obtain Russia’s adhesion to the agreement. He was, besides, to give the Czarina to understand that her mediation between France and England would be welcomed by the cabinet of Versailles, who in return would show less devotion to the interests of Poland. As circumstances might make the Grand Duchess’s support invaluable, they would be obliged to pay her greater deference, whereat it was hoped the Empress would not take umbrage.

Such double-dealing was not calculated to attract the ambassador, who, disliking intrigues, would not have been successful and did not take part in it. He had found favour with Elizabeth, and was particularly anxious to retain her esteem. His witty conversation, his good manners, and a liberality which Louis XV. called extravagant, had won for him the sympathies of the court. If he possessed all the qualities of the man of high rank whom his government had sought as a worthy representative of France at a stately court, his age, his infirmities, and a want of natural energy prevented him from reaping the advantages of an alliance which he confined himself to maintaining and strengthening as best he could. He deemed that to be the most important part of his mission, and relied upon d’Eon, to whom he had become genuinely attached, for the management of current affairs. So highly did he value his young secretary’s attainments, and his experience of Russian people and affairs, that he made it a practice never to come to a decision without first consulting “his little d’Eon,” whose functions as secret agent were thus singularly facilitated. Consequently the ambassador did not omit to communicate to him the instructions he had just received from the Duc de Choiseul.

D’Eon was already aware of their purport. But he had learned too, by a letter from Tercier, that the King would by no means consent to Elizabeth extending her dominions at the expense of Poland; such an aggrandisement being calculated to give her a preponderance in Northern Europe which the offer of mediation would strengthen. On those terms Louis XV. preferred to continue the war with England. In short, he desired no change in the attitude which had been adopted towards the Grand Duchess. D’Eon, without revealing his source of inspiration, pointed out these considerations to the Marquis de L’Hospital, who contented himself with negotiating the ratification to the treaty, and awaited more urgent orders before broaching the other points. These orders soon arrived. Choiseul, put out of patience by an inaction so inconsistent with the instructions transmitted, wrote a letter to the ambassador, the intimate and affectionate character of which alone mitigated the asperity of the language, and in which he gave him the option of obeying or of applying for his recall.

D’Eon renewed his entreaties to the Marquis de L’Hospital, and did all he could to dissuade him from launching out into intrigues which might not meet with the King’s approval. So he managed to defer the project for over a year, and the defeats inflicted upon Frederick by the Russians made the minister abandon it of his own accord.

Unable to obtain what he desired from an ambassador whom his friendship prevented him from reprimanding, Choiseul decided to appoint a colleague to the marquis, with the title of minister plenipotentiary, and despatched to St. Petersburg the Baron de Breteuil, a young man enabled by his talents, his distinguished appearance, and his high rank to ingratiate himself with the Grand Duchess and the young count. The King approved this mission officially; but as it was prejudicial to the interests of his personal policy he resolved to counteract its effects by admitting the baron to the secret correspondence. Accordingly he signed a long letter, indited by Tercier, instructing d’Eon to let the new envoy know the King’s private designs.

D’Eon’s functions were thus about to become considerably restricted. After intriguing during five years and acting as intermediary in the secret correspondence between Louis XV. and Elizabeth, after working at the negotiations of several treaties, he found his diplomatic career hindered, and so he again entertained the idea of applying for active service in the army. He had, moreover, kept up a friendly intercourse with the superior officers of his regiment, having corresponded on several occasions with his colonel, the Marquis de Caraman, and his comrade, Captain de Chambry. He had even been considerate enough to look for furs for the Duc de Chevreuse, colonel-general of dragoons, who had acknowledged the delicate attention in a friendly note.

The historical studies to which he devoted the leisure left him by the negotiations (the mere titles of which show clearly that he lacked the sense of proportion in all he did) could not reconcile d’Eon to the kind of life which he led in Russia. In the month of July, 1760, he lost all patience, his health being seriously impaired, and he entreated the Marquis de L’Hospital for permission to return to France:

De L’Hospital did not detain d’Eon any longer, and commissioned him to convey to Versailles the ratifications to the treaty of 1758 and to the maritime convention concluded between Russia, Sweden and Denmark.

D’Eon left St. Petersburg with the fixed determination of never returning, and carried away with him eulogistic testimonials from the Marquis de L’Hospital and the Baron de Breteuil, and letters of recommendation to the Minister for War. The Czarina graciously presented him with a snuff-box ornamented with diamonds, and upon his taking leave of Woronzow, the Chancellor said: “I am sorry you are going away, even though your first journey here, with the Chevalier Douglas, cost my sovereign more than two hundred thousand men and fifteen million roubles.”

As on the first occasion, the bearer of excellent news, d’Eon again met with a warm reception in Paris and at Versailles. The Duc de Choiseul caused a pension of two thousand livres to be conferred upon him out of the privy purse, and promised to do something for his career.

D’Eon, whom the journey had exhausted, had just been attacked by small-pox, and was obliged to take care of himself and to await until the spring the realisation of his long-cherished wish. At last, in the month of February, 1761, he was able to ask the Duc de Choiseul, Minister for War, “for permission to serve as aide-de-camp to the Marshal and the Comte de Broglie in the army of the Upper Rhine, and for his transference to the regiment of d’Autichamp’s dragoons, in the same army, the colonel-general’s regiment doing duty that year on the coast.”

The minister was anxious to comply with his request by despatching him to the army; but this official sanction was insufficient for d’Eon; he required further the consent of the King. The Comte de Broglie, whose aide-de-camp he wished to become, and who, in fact, continued to attend to the business of the secret diplomacy from the army, submitted his desire to the sovereign, and obtained the following reply:—

D’Eon was immediately appointed and started without delay for the army, where he at once entered active service. At Höxter he was entrusted with the removal of the ammunition and some of the King’s stores which had been left in the fortress: these he put on board the boats moored on the banks of the Weser, and crossed the river several times under the enemy’s fire. A little later, in an action at Ultrop, near Löft, he was wounded in the face and thigh. On November 7, 1761, when commanding the grenadiers of Champagne and the Swiss, he attacked the Scottish Highlanders, who were ambushed in the mountain gorges close to the camp of Einbeck, dislodging them and pursuing them as far as the English quarters. Lastly, at Osterwieck, when in command of a small detachment of only about a hundred dragoons and hussars, he fearlessly charged the Frankish Prussian battalion of Rhes, which had intercepted the communications of the French army near Wolfenbüttel. So sudden was his attack that the enemy, put to confusion, laid down their arms, enabling him to take eight hundred prisoners. The Prince Xavier de Saxe profited by this daring exploit in advancing his troops and occupying Wolfenbüttel. All these great feats, which d’Eon was wont to recount complacently, and which he bade his biographer, La Fortelle, relate, are attested besides by the certificate delivered to him by the Marshal and the Comte de Broglie on his leaving the army:

The original of this certificate has been lost, but d’Eon published the text himself in London in 1764, at the time of his quarrels with the Comte de Guerchy, when the Marshal and the Comte de Broglie were still alive, so that the accuracy of the testimony cannot well be questioned.

It was at this time that d’Eon met a man in de Broglie’s army who exercised later a decisive influence over his destiny, ruining his regular career, and launching him in a series of adventures, one more bizarre than another, which involved the ruin of his brilliant qualities, and the loss, through an extravagant metamorphosis, of his manly dignity. The Comte de Guerchy, future ambassador of France in England, was then lieutenant-general in Marshal de Broglie’s army. On August 19, 1761, the day that the French army crossed the Weser below Höxter, Captain d’Eon was commissioned by his chief to deliver to him the following order:—

Is it true, as d’Eon asserted later in the libel which he published in London against the ambassador, that the Comte de Guerchy contented himself with putting the order in his pocket, saying to d’Eon: “If you have a supply of ammunition, you have only to remove it to a park of artillery you will find at half-a-league’s distance,” and that, in spite of discipline, the young aide-de-camp had to gallop after the lieutenant-general to recover the order, and to take it upon himself to carry out the marshal’s instructions? The Comte de Guerchy naturally took care not to admit the truth of the story, which he treated as a wild fabrication, and the tardy and interested testimony of so biassed and insincere a person as d’Eon can only be accepted with extreme caution.

However that may be, it is interesting to record this first meeting on the battlefield of two officers who were destined three years later, as colleagues in the same embassy, to quarrel so violently and to astonish the whole of Europe by the scandal of their dispute.

Yet despite his exemplary conduct in the army and the ability he displayed in discharging the duties of a dragoon on real battlefields after following in embassies what he called “the trade of a scribe and pharisee,” d’Eon quitted the service before the month of September 1762, when the preliminaries of peace were signed. Towards the end of December, 1761, he returned to Paris in compliance with an order from the ministry. There was some question of sending him back to St. Petersburg, where he had so successfully made his first diplomatic campaign, and of appointing him successor to the Baron de Breteuil. Once more he was about to change his career, by gaining another promotion. He left Cassel, where he chanced to be with Marshal de Broglie’s staff, taking away with him the certificate which recorded his brilliant military exploits, and reached France in the beginning of the year 1762. Hardly had he set out when the Czarina died, bearing away to her grave d’Eon’s prospects of an embassy. If, notwithstanding his comparatively inferior rank and origin, he had seemed in the eyes of the Minister for Foreign Affairs and the King peculiarly qualified for the accomplishment of a confidential mission to the Empress, who had known him for several years and had frequently given him proofs of her good-will, the accession of a new sovereign at St. Petersburg considerably diminished the importance of these particular reasons, and the impetuous Burgundian was thwarted once again in his aspirations by the obstacle of caste.

In fact, instead of sending d’Eon to Russia, where the ministry decided upon leaving the Baron de Breteuil, they conceived the idea of turning the young diplomatist’s indefatigable zeal and remarkable talents to profitable account in the negotiations for peace. The Duc de Choiseul appointed him secretary to the Duc de Nivernais, selected as the most subtle and expert arbitrator in the whole of France for the difficult task of concluding peace with England.