cisnormativity within their own lifetime
Welcome to my latest queer history blog post, and my final post during Pride 2022! If you enjoy this article, make sure to sign up for my newsletter and stay up to date with my blog and in-progress Historical Fiction novel. Thanks for reading!
As discussions around, and awareness of, nonbinary gender identities have grown in recent years, there remains an (incorrect) assumption that the gender spectrum and identities therein (e.g., nonbinary, agender, demigender) are new concepts. But a brief look at European history (to say nothing of the vast spectrum of gender concepts outside of Europe) belies the notion of a firm gender binary ever truly existing. In the 18th century, the Chevalier d’Éon was a possibly genderfluid soldier, spy and diplomat whose outsized personality and defiance of cisnormativity made them famous in their own day. They are a fascinating and compelling example of famous historical individuals who challenged both contemporary and modern notions of binary genders.
Early Career at the French Court
Charles Geneviève Louis Auguste André Timothée d’Éon de Beaumont was born in 1728 to a minor noble family in Tonnerre, France.[1] They reportedly claimed in adulthood that they were born anatomically female, but that their father hid the fact and raised them as a boy to ensure the passage of the family’s noble titles to the next generation.[2] D’Éon’s quick intelligence and political acumen were recognized in early adulthood, and they would serve King Louis XV of France as both a diplomat and a spy. D’Éon went on to represent the French king in Russia and London during these years, and was perceived as an otherwise ordinary young nobleman dedicated to His Majesty’s service. D’Éon would achieve martial recognition during the Seven Years War (1756 – 1763). Their efforts to negotiate the 1762 Treaty of Paris in a diplomatic capacity ultimately earned them the French title “Chevalier” – an elevation in their social status and, notably, a title that was only bestowed on men.[3] A print (below) from 1764 (when d’Éon was in their mid-30s) shows them in a conventional, masculine military outfit befitting a young man of the new Chevalier’s rank.
Scandal and Exile
But d’Éon’s sterling career at the French court would soon be shattered, and d’Éon would become an international phenomenon. With their star rising in France, d’Éon had been entrusted with closely guarded diplomatic secrets at the close of the Seven Years War. In 1764, they betrayed the French crown and unveiled a planned secret attack against England in the scandalous Lettres, memoires et negociations as a form of blackmail.[4] While the audacious move saw the Chevalier banished from France, d’Éon attained celebrity status in London where they were a sought-after public figure.
But public interest was not solely focused on d’Éon’s titillating revelations about scheming at the Court at Versailles. By the early 1770s, rumors had spread throughout Western Europe that d’Éon was in fact a female.[5] According to some sources, d’Éon furiously defended their masculinity by challenging rumormongers to duels in coffeehouses; other sources suggest that it was in fact d’Éon who spread these rumors for their own purposes.[6] Regardless of their origination, the rumors led to a particularly ribald betting series over the mysterious Chevalier’s actual biological sex at the London Stock Exchange.[7]
Transition?
The Chevalier d’Éon would soon set rumors alight once again with their social transition to a wholly female presentation in the late 1770s. By this time, they had returned to France under the reign of the new King, the ill-fated Louis XVI, who supported the Chevalier with a generous pension. The French crown allowed their repatriation, however, with the odd requirement that they “readopt” feminine clothing. It is possible that the young King, and his advisors, believed the Chevalier’s claims that they were indeed anatomically female all along from birth. This requirement was perhaps intended to force the Chevalier to attire themselves in line with their presumed biological sex. One source notes that “[i]t remains unclear whether Louis XVI forced d’Éon into this gender transformation (possibly as a means to marginalise them from political life), or whether it was d’Éon’s own choice.”[8]
Whatever the reason, d’Éon presented themselves as exclusively female for the remaining three decades of their life. Below is one of their portraits, in their feminine presentation, rendered when they were in their early sixties.
The chaos of the French Revolution in 1789 forced d’Éon, an aristocrat with ties to the monarchy, to flee their homeland once and for all. Once returned to London, their reduced circumstances forced them to pursue more creative means of earning income. D’Éon became infamous as a female duelist who performed for public audiences. Throughout these years, and despite their masculine hobbies, d’Éon only presented as female.[9] This may have been around the time that they claimed to have been born female, and that their male presentation earlier in life was for familial advantage.
The Chevalier d’Éon remained a mysterious, astonishing and elusive public personality until their passing in 1810, by which point they lived in relative poverty in the modest home of a widowed friend. It was perhaps unavoidable that d’Éon’s body, after so many years of hot speculation, would be autopsied. In the end, those who examined d’Éon’s remains reported conclusively that the Chevalier was, after all, anatomically male.[10]
Legacy, and Labels?
While this final anatomical verdict may have satisfied (or just further perplexed) contemporary Europeans of their era, it is clear that d’Éon’s story challenges the entire notion of a fixed, binary gender identity all together – even in a socio-cultural context which was centered on said binary. The 18th century Western Europe that d’Éon inhabited was defined by clear distinctions between “male” and “female” (or “the fairer sex”, per Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant). The modern notion of a gender spectrum was certainly not understood in this historical context as it is today, and characters like d’Éon were very much the exception to the rules.
The Chevalier’s identity could thus be interpreted in many different ways and through varying lenses. A number of gender identities, such as non-binary (enby) or transgender, could describe them and their experiences. Genderfluid is another possibility. Although this term has varying meanings to those who use it, it generally describes a person whose gender identity fluctuates or changes over time.[11] The Chevalier d’Éon’s transition from masculine presentation (in the first half of their life) to feminine presentation (in the second half) is suggestive of what we might refer to as genderfluid today.
But in the end, a final determination of a label for d’Éon, much like the final determination of their anatomical sex, is perhaps irrelevant. However they viewed themselves, their experiences are almost certainly indicative of a lifelong effort to break away from the overwhelmingly predominant cisgender normativity of their era in spite of the rumors, confusion, and even lurid betting games. In this sense, the Chevalier d’Éon was a remarkable individual who refused to be confined in their expression of identity. Two hundreds years later, there is much that the modern world (and its expanding views of queer sexuality and gender identity) can admire in d’Éon, and perhaps much that this fascinating person can still teach us.
[1] Lydia Figes, “The gender fluidity of the Chevalier d’Éon,” Art UK, February 23, 2021, https://artuk.org/discover/stories/the-gender-fluidity-of-the-chevalier-don.
[2] R.B. Parkinson, “A Celebrity Solider”, A Little Gay History: Desire and Diversity Across the World, Columbia University Press, New York, 2013, pg. 78.
[3] Figes, ibid.
[4] “The Chevalier d’Eon,” The British Museum, https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/desire-love-and-identity/chevalier-deon.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Figes, ibid.
[7] Parkinson, ibid.
[8] Figes, ibid.
[9]The British Museum, ibid.
[10] Parkinson, ibid.
[11]Sabra L. Katz-Wise, PhD, “Gender fluidity: What it means and why support matters,” Harvard Health Publishing, December 3, 2020.