So you would make war on us again in England? It would be very ill-advised. I think the English people need peace as much as we do, and we are taking measures which will give France more national energy than she has ever had, for we shall manage our affairs and those of the King for ourselves. I can understand that others may base their hopes upon a momentary revolution of our system of government, but when the nation has everything to gain by it, when it is seen to be animated by patriotism such as is guiding us at the present moment, when a monarch makes so many sacrifices of his glory for the welfare of his people, it is in no wise the time to think of obtaining an advantage over us. I trust that this temporary effervescence will subside, and that we shall be permitted peacefully to establish a form of government which will for ever ensure the happiness of France, provided the work of reform be well directed, as there is good reason to believe it will be. M. de Tanlay’s idyllic dreams were not realised: the Bastille was taken, the Tuileries invaded, and war declared. His correspondent did not fail, however, to applaud “the victories of liberty.” The Chevalière d’Eon became the Citoyenne Geneviève, and—whether from conviction or, perhaps, too, with a view to increasing her fame by this new means of courting popularity—posed on every occasion as the most ardent Jacobin. At her instigation a great number of Frenchmen living in London assembled at Turnham Green, on July 14, 1790, “to celebrate publicly the anniversary of the glorious Revolution, and to take the civic oath.” D’Eon read a speech written in the declamatory and sentimental style of the time, and his harangue was so highly appreciated that all the English papers reproduced it immediately. At the same time as the French gathering over six hundred Englishmen met under the auspices and presidency of Lord Stanhope, to celebrate the glorious anniversary and to express “their desire for an eternal alliance between the English and French nations, which would for ever ensure peace, liberty, and happiness throughout the whole world.” D’Eon was unable to attend the English meeting, being detained among his countrymen, but he sent a present, the arrival of which excited the greatest enthusiasm. It consisted of “a stone taken from the arch of one of the principal gates of the Bastille, which has endured the musketry volleys of our brave Parisians.” The very next day he received a most grateful acknowledgment from Lord Stanhope.