On leaving Cassel for Versailles, the Marshal and Count de Broglio were accompanied by their aide-de-camp D’Eon, who separated himself from the army never to return to it, through no fault, however, or wish of his own. Short as was his military career, it was at least brilliant, the qualities he displayed of a brave soldier meeting with the high commendation of his superiors, to whom he had become so closely attached by the nature of his duties. ‘We certify that M. D’Eon de Beaumont, captain of the regiment of dragoons of d’Autichamp, formerly Caraman, has served under our orders as our aide-de-camp; that during the whole of the campaign of 1761 we very frequently employed him in carrying the orders of the general, and that he has, upon several occasions, given proofs of the greatest intelligence and of the greatest valour; notably at Höxter, in executing, in presence of, and under the fire of, the enemy, the perilous operation of removing the powder and other stores of the King; at the reconnaissance and at the battle of Ultrop, where he was wounded in the thigh; and near Osterwiek[68] where, as second captain of a troop of eighty dragoons, under the orders of M. de Saint-Victor, commanding the volunteers of the army, they charged the Frankish Prussian battalion of Rhes with such effect and determination that they took them prisoners of war, notwithstanding the superior number of the enemy. ‘In testimony whereof, we have delivered to him this certificate, signed with our hand, countersigned by our secretary, and have affixed thereunto our seals. ‘Done at Cassel, December 24, 1761. ‘L.S. The Marshal Duke de Broglio. ‘L.S. The Count de Broglio. ‘By Order, DROUET.’ It was the fate of the Count de Broglio, for no ostensible reason, to share the exile of his brother, but with that spirit of contradiction and fickleness inherent in Louis XV., he was retained on the staff of the secret correspondence and ordered to continue his customary duties, the King telling Tercier he was _forced_ to act as he did. The truth is that the King could scarcely do without him, and had felt the force of the remonstrance the count had the courage to offer when on the point of leaving Paris for the family estate. ‘Your Majesty may recollect that for several years past I have foreseen the storm which to-day bursts over me. The very marks of your Majesty’s favour have gathered it about me,’—words that were but the echo of others the count had addressed to the King years before, when similarly misunderstood and suspected by his Majesty’s ministers.