“One doesn’t know whom to trust,” he wrote to Lady Atkyns. “I am sure some one has furnished the Government with a long report upon my projects. I am on the track of the man who I think is guilty. There is no reason for you to be anxious on the subject. I shall soon know what has been done, and both the traitor and the Government shall be outwitted.”
About this time a flood of memorials of all sorts poured in by mysterious channels upon the British Government, maintaining that “the general desire of the French was for a change in the ruling family.” Cormier discovered that they all were traceable to the same source, and we find him declaring energetically that “the blasphemous scoundrels” who were responsible for them all belonged to one clique.
His indignation, in which he found few sympathizers, made him a number of enemies, and the disfavour with which he was already regarded in French circles soon changed into downright hatred. The fact that he denounced the false paper-money to the British Government—and not in vain—was a cause of special bitterness against him. By way of revenge, they could think of nothing better than to accuse him of being himself guilty of the very offences against which he had set his face.
“They are trying to make out that I am the owner of ships which I use for the purpose of conveying this false paper-money to Brittany,” he writes to Lady Atkyns. “They have stated this to the Government. Fortunately, my whole conduct and reputation, and all that I have done to destroy this shameful traffic, serve to show the improbability of such accusations.”
But, in spite of all his energy and determination, Cormier’s enemies were too strong for him. It was in vain that he demonstrated his good faith. Calumny had done its work.
The British Government had decided, in concert with the Comte d’Artois, to send an important mission to the Netherlands, with a view, doubtless, to establishing relations with the Stadtholder, whose position was becoming critical owing to the sequel to the Revolution. The man to be entrusted with this mission would have to be some one who had given proof of his qualifications. Cormier seemed cut out for the post, and he stood in readiness for it, enjoying the prospect of thus getting into touch again with France, and of perhaps being able to serve the interests that were so dear to him. But he had reckoned without his foes. Their efforts were redoubled, and in the course of November Cormier learnt that another had been entrusted with the mission. His anger and disappointment can be imagined. He decided that, in spite of all, he would leave England and betake himself to Holland on private business. Doubtless he imagined also that it would be an advantage to be near the French frontier, and that he would be the better able to follow the course of events at the Temple. It was a risky step to take, for there was nothing to guarantee his complete security in the Netherlands.
However that might be, his decision was taken, and on November 25, 1794, Baron d’Auerweck wrote to Lady Atkyns to acquaint her with the news of Cormier’s departure, conveying to her at the same time many apologies for his having himself neglected to write to her to take farewell. During the months that follow the “little baron” replaces the Breton magistrate as principal correspondent of Lady Atkyns.
It is a strange personality that stands revealed in these letters of Baron d’Auerweck. Keen and resourceful, the baron lays himself out to exploit to the utmost the valuable friendship of the English lady, thus bequeathed to him, as it were, by Cormier. Trained by Peltier, d’Auerweck seems to have modelled himself upon his master, and to have become in his turn the accomplished publicist, plausible, fluent, supple, with a gift of raillery and sarcasm, together with a turn for philosophy. Lady Atkyns, though not unappreciative of his copious epistles, shows clearly that she estimates him at his real value, and is careful not to take him too much into her confidence. It must be enough for him to know that there is still reason to hope that the Dauphin may be saved. D’Auerweck himself is not in a position to give her much information in return. His letters consist rather of a bright and lively commentary upon the political situation and the course of events generally in France.
Upon Cormier’s decision to leave England the Baron expresses himself in downright language, and makes it a text for a disquisition upon his elder’s character.
“Cormier’s departure has disturbed me a good deal,” he writes to Lady Atkyns, “the more so that, with a little prudence, he could have spared himself this unpleasantness, and might have succeeded in getting what he wanted. A man who has passed his whole life in the magistracy ought, at the age of fifty-six, to know something about men, but Cormier has never got further than the A B C of such knowledge. I have had some rather hot disputes with him over his rash confidence, his purposeless explosions, his sudden friendships that ended in ruptures, thus increasing the number of his enemies.... But we both of us felt the parting. I must do him the justice of admitting that there is a lot of kindness and sympathy in his character. I think he has the same feeling of friendship for me that I have for him. It is my wish to serve him whenever the opportunity may arrive.”