Read Ebook: Lafayette We Come! The Story of How a Young Frenchman Fought for Liberty in America and How America Now Fights for Liberty in France by Holland Rupert Sargent

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His mind made up by what he had heard at Metz, Lafayette set off for Paris. But once there, it was hard to decide where he should turn for help. His father-in-law, he knew, would be even more scandalized by his new plan than he had been by the affront the young man had given the King's brother. His own wife was too young and inexperienced to give him wise counsel in such a matter. Finally he chose for his first real confidant his cousin and close friend, the Count de Segur. Lafayette went at once to his cousin's house, though it was only seven o'clock in the morning, was told that the Count was not yet out of bed, but, without waiting to be announced, rushed upstairs and woke the young man.

The Count saw his cousin standing beside him and shaking him by the arm. In great surprise he sat up. "Wake up! wake up!" cried Lafayette. "Wake up! I'm going to America to fight for freedom! Nobody knows it yet; but I love you too much not to tell you."

The Count sprang out of bed and caught Lafayette's hand. "If that is so, I will go with you!" he cried. "I will go to America too! I will fight with you for freedom! How soon do you start?"

It was easier said than done, however. The two young men had breakfast and eagerly discussed this momentous matter. The upshot of their discussion was to decide to enlist a third friend in their cause, and so they set out to see Lafayette's brother-in-law, the Viscount Louis Marie de Noailles, who was a year older than the Marquis.

The young Viscount, like the Count de Segur, heard Lafayette's news with delight, for he also belonged to that small section of the French nobility that was very much interested in what was called "the rights of man." So here were three young fellows,--hardly more than boys,--for none of the three was over twenty years old, all of high rank and large fortune, eager to do what they could to help the fighting farmers of the American colonies.

At the very start, however, they ran into difficulties. France and England, though not on very friendly terms at that particular time, were yet keeping the peace between them, and the French prime minister was afraid that if the English government should learn that a number of young French aristocrats were intending to aid the rebellious American colonists it might cause ill-feeling between France and England. The prime minister, therefore, frowned on all such schemes as that of Lafayette, and so the three young liberty-loving conspirators had to set about their business with the greatest secrecy.

Lafayette's next step was to hunt out a man who had been sent over to France from the American colonies as a secret agent, a representative of what was known as the American Committee of Secret Correspondence, of which Benjamin Franklin was a member. This man was Silas Deane of the colony of Connecticut. Deane was secretly sending arms and supplies from France to America, but he was so closely watched by the agents of the English Ambassador, Lord Stormont, that it was very difficult to see him without rousing suspicions.

While the Marquis was studying the problem of how to get in touch with Deane he confided his secret to the Count de Broglie, his superior officer at Metz and his very good friend. The Count was at once opposed to any such rash venture. "You want to throw your life away in that land of savages!" exclaimed De Broglie. "Why, my dear Lafayette, it is the craziest scheme I ever heard of! And to what purpose?"

"For the noblest of purposes, sir," answered the Marquis. "To help a devoted people win their liberty! What ambition could be nobler?"

"It is a dream, my friend, a dream that can never be fulfilled," said the old soldier. "I will not help you to throw your life away. I saw your uncle die in the wars of Italy, I witnessed your brave father's death at the battle of Hastenbeck, and I cannot be a party to the ruin of the last of your name, the only one left of the stock of the Lafayettes!"

But even the old Marshal could not withstand the ardor and enthusiasm of the youth. So vehemently did Lafayette set forth his wishes that finally the Count promised that he would not actively oppose his plans, and presently agreed to introduce the Marquis to a Bavarian soldier named De Kalb, who might be able to help him.

"I will introduce you to De Kalb," said the Count. "He is in Paris now, and perhaps through him you may be able to communicate with this American agent, Monsieur Deane."

De Kalb was a soldier of fortune who had been to America long before the Revolution and knew a great deal about the colonies. At present he was in France, giving what information he could to the government there. And the upshot of Lafayette's talk with the Count de Broglie was that the latter not only gave the Marquis a letter to De Kalb but also actually asked De Kalb to go to America and see if he could arrange things so that he, the Count de Broglie, might be invited by the American Congress to cross the ocean and become commander-in-chief of the American army! Perhaps it was natural that the veteran Marshal of France should think that he would make a better commander-in-chief than the untried George Washington.

The Baron de Kalb arranged that the Count de Broglie should see Silas Deane of Connecticut. Silas Deane was impressed with the importance of securing such a powerful friend and leader for his hard-pressed people, and he at once agreed to see what he could do for De Broglie, and promised Baron de Kalb the rank of major-general in the American army and signed an agreement with him by which fifteen French officers should go to America on a ship that was fitting out with arms and supplies.

This fell in beautifully with Lafayette's wishes. De Broglie introduced the Marquis to De Kalb, and De Kalb presented him to Silas Deane. This was in December, 1776, and Lafayette, only nineteen, slight of figure, looked very boyish for such an enterprise. But he plainly showed that his whole heart was in his plan, and, as he said himself, "made so much out of the small excitement that my going away was likely to cause," that the American agent was carried away by his enthusiasm, and in his own rather reckless fashion, wrote out a paper by which the young Marquis was to enter the service of the American colonies as a major-general.

Deane's enthusiasm over Lafayette's offer of his services may be seen from what he wrote in the agreement. The paper he sent to Congress in regard to this volunteer ran as follows: "His high birth, his alliances, the great dignities which his family holds at this court, his considerable estates in this realm, his personal merit, his reputation, his disinterestedness, and, above all, his zeal for the liberty of our provinces, are such as have only been able to engage me to promise him the rank of major-general in the name of the United States. In witness of which I have signed the present this seventh of December, 1776. Silas Deane, Agent for the United States of America."

Imagine Lafayette's joy at this result of his meeting with Silas Deane! It seemed as if his enthusiasm had already won him his goal. But there were other people to be considered, and his family were not as much delighted with his plans as the man from Connecticut had been.

As a matter of fact his father-in-law, the powerful Duke d'Ayen, was furious, and so were most of the others of his family. His cousin, the Count de Segur, described the feelings of Lafayette's relations. "It is easy to conceive their astonishment," he wrote, "when they learned suddenly that this young sage of nineteen, so cool and so indifferent, had been so far carried away by the love of glory and of danger as to intend to cross the ocean and fight in the cause of American freedom." There was more of a storm at home than when the self-filled young Marquis had of his own accord disgraced himself at court.

But his wife Adrienne, girl though she was, understood him far better than the rest of the family, and even sympathized with his great desire. "God wills that you should go," she said to her husband. "I have prayed for guidance and strength. Whatever others think, you shall not be blamed."

Others, however, did have to be reckoned with. Lafayette's two friends, the Count de Segur and the Viscount de Noailles, both of whom had been so eager to go with him, had found that their fathers would not supply them with the money they needed and that the King would not consent to their going to America. Reluctantly they had to give up their plans. But Lafayette was rich, he had no need to ask for funds from any one; there was no difficulty for him on that score.

The Duke d'Ayen was delighted. He went to Lafayette, and trying to put the matter on a friendly footing, said, "You had better return to your regiment at Metz, my dear son."

Lafayette drew himself up, his face as determined as ever. "No Lafayette was ever known to turn back," he answered. "I shall do as I have determined."

At that moment things looked gloomy indeed for the Americans. Their army had been badly defeated at the battle of Long Island, and their friends in Europe were depressed. That, however, seemed to Lafayette all the more reason for taking them aid as quickly as he could, and when he heard that Benjamin Franklin was interested in him he made an opportunity to see the latter.

Franklin was perfectly fair with Lafayette. He gave the young Frenchman the exact news he had received from America, information that Washington's army of three thousand ragged and suffering men were retreating across New Jersey before the victorious and well-equipped troops of General Howe. He pointed out that the credit of the new republic was certain to sink lower and lower unless Washington should be able to win a victory and that at present it looked as if any such event was far away. And in view of all this Franklin, and Silas Deane also, was frank enough to tell Lafayette that his plan of aiding the United States at that particular time was almost foolhardy.

The Frenchman thanked them for their candor. "Until this moment, gentlemen," said he, "I have only been able to show you my zeal in your struggle; now the time has come when that zeal may be put to actual use. I am going to buy a ship and carry your officers and supplies to America in it. We must show our confidence in the cause, and it is in just such a time of danger as this that I want to share whatever fortune may have in store for you."

Franklin was immensely touched by the generosity of the young Marquis and told him so. But, practical man as he was, although he gladly accepted Lafayette's offer, he pointed out that as the American agents were closely watched in Paris it would be better for Lafayette to work through third parties and in some other place than the French capital, if possible.

Lafayette took these suggestions. At once he found that it was extremely difficult to secure a ship without discovery by the English Ambassador. Here the Count de Broglie again gave him aid. He introduced the Marquis to Captain Dubois, the brother of his secretary, an officer in one of the King's West Indian regiments, who happened to be at home on furlough at the time, and Lafayette engaged him as his agent. He sent him secretly to Bordeaux, the French seaport that was supposed to be safest from suspicion, and gave him the money to buy and supply a ship, the plan being that Captain Dubois should appear to be fitting out the vessel for the needs of his own regiment in the West Indies.

But he never took advantage of his hosts. He kept away from the English barracks and shipyards, though he was invited to inspect them. He was careful to a degree to avoid any act that might later be considered as having been in the nature of a breach of confidence. And after three weeks in the gay world of London he felt that he could brook no longer delay and told his uncle the Ambassador that he had taken a fancy to cross the Channel for a short visit at home.

His uncle opposed this idea, saying that so abrupt a departure would be discourteous to the English court, but Lafayette insisted. So the Marquis de Noailles finally offered to give out the report that his nephew was sick until the latter should return to London. Lafayette agreed. "I would not have proposed this stratagem," he said later, "but I did not object to it."

But all was not yet smooth sailing. Lord Stormont, the English Ambassador, heard of Lafayette's departure from Paris and also of his plans to leave France, and at once protested to the King. Lafayette's father-in-law likewise protested, and no sooner had the young nobleman arrived in Bordeaux than royal officers were on his track. The French government did not want him to sail, no matter how much it might secretly sympathize with the young republic across the ocean.

Having come so far, however, the intrepid Marquis did not intend to be stopped. He meant to sail on his ship, he meant to carry out the brave words he had spoken to his cousin. "I'm going to America to fight for freedom!" he had said, and he was determined to accomplish that end.

HOW LAFAYETTE RAN AWAY TO SEA

The news that affected the runaway nobleman most was contained in the letters from home. He had had to leave Paris without telling his intentions to his wife, much as he hated to do this. He knew that she really approved of his plans and would do nothing to thwart them, but the letters said that she was ill and in great distress of mind. He would have braved the King's order of arrest and all the other threats, but he could not stand the idea of his wife being in distress on his account. So, with the greatest reluctance he said good-bye to his plans, left his ship in the Spanish port, and crossed the border back to France.

It looked as if this was to be the end of Lafayette's gallant adventure. The Baron de Kalb, very much disappointed, wrote to his wife, "This is the end of his expedition to America to join the army of the insurgents."

It might have been the end with another man, but not with Lafayette. He rode back to Bordeaux, and there found that much of the outcry raised against him was due to the wiles of his obstinate father-in-law, the Duke d'Ayen. It was true that the English Ambassador had protested to King Louis' ministers, but there was no real danger of Lafayette's sailing disturbing the relations between England and France. New letters told Lafayette that his wife was well and happy, though she missed him. The threats and the orders were due, not to the anger of his own government, but to the determination of the Duke that his son-in-law should not risk his life and fortune in such a rash enterprise.

In Bordeaux Lafayette met a young French officer, named Du Mauroy, who had also received from Silas Deane a commission in the American army, and who was very anxious to reach the United States. The two made their plans together, and the upshot of it was that they presently set out together in a post-chaise for Marseilles.

They did not keep on the road to Marseilles long, however. No sooner were they well out of Bordeaux than they changed their course and drove in the direction of the Spanish border. In a quiet place on the road Lafayette slipped out of the chaise and hid in the woods. There he disguised himself as a post-boy or courier, and then rode on ahead, on horseback, as if he were the servant of the gentleman in the carriage.

His companion, Du Mauroy, had a permit to leave France, and the plan was that he should try to get the Marquis across the Spanish frontier as his body-servant. The chaise went galloping along as fast as the horses could pull it, because the young men had good reason to fear that French officers would speedily be on their track, if they were not already pursuing them. They came to a little village, St. Jean de Luz, where Lafayette had stopped on his journey from Las Pasajes to Bordeaux a short time before, and there, as the Marquis, disguised as the post-boy, rode into the stable-yard of the inn the daughter of the innkeeper recognized him as the same young man she had waited on earlier.

The girl gave a cry of surprise. "Oh, monsieur!" she exclaimed.

Lafayette put his finger to his lips in warning. "Yes, my girl," he said quickly. "Monsieur my patron wants fresh horses at once. He is coming just behind me, and is riding post-haste to Spain."

The girl understood. Perhaps she was used to odd things happening in a village so close to the border of France and Spain, perhaps she liked the young man and wanted to help him in his adventure. She called a stable-boy and had him get the fresh horses that were needed, and when the disguised Marquis and his friend were safely across the frontier and some French officers came galloping up to the inn in pursuit of them she told the latter that the post-chaise had driven off by the opposite road to the one it had really taken.

When news of Lafayette's sailing reached Paris it caused the greatest interest. Though the King and the older members of his court might frown and shake their heads the younger people were frankly delighted. Coffee-houses echoed with praise of the daring Lieutenant, and whenever his name was mentioned in public it met with the loudest applause. In the world of society opinions differed; most of the luxury-loving nobility thought the adventure of the Marquis a wild-goose chase. The Chevalier de Marais wrote to his mother, "All Paris is discussing the adventure of a young courtier, the son-in-law of Noailles, who has a pretty wife, two children, fifty thousand crowns a year,--in fact, everything which can make life here agreeable and dear, but who deserted all that a week ago to join the insurgents. His name is M. de Lafayette."

And the Chevalier's mother answered from her ch?teau in the country, "What new kind of folly is this, my dear child? What! the madness of knight-errantry still exists! It has disciples! Go to help the insurgents! I am delighted that you reassure me about yourself, for I should tremble for you; but since you see that M. de Lafayette is a madman, I am tranquil."

A celebrated Frenchwoman, Madame du Deffand, wrote to the Englishman Horace Walpole, "Of course it is a piece of folly, but it does him no discredit. He receives more praise than blame." And that was the opinion of a large part of France. If a young man chose to do such a wild thing as to become a knight-errant he might be criticized for his lack of wisdom, but on the whole he was not to be condemned.

The papers with which the ship had sailed from Spain declared that her destination was the West Indies. But ships often sailed for other ports than those they were supposed to, and Lafayette wanted to reach the United States as quickly as he could. He went to the captain and said, "You will please make your course as direct as possible for Charlestown in the Carolinas."

"The Carolinas, sir!" exclaimed the captain. "Why, I cannot do that. The ship's papers are made out for the West Indies and will only protect us if we sail for a port there. I intend to sail for the West Indies, and you will have to get transportation across to the colonies from there."

Lafayette was amazed. "This ship is mine," he declared, "and I direct you to sail to Charlestown."

But the captain was obstinate. "I am the master of this ship, sir," said he, "and responsible for its safety. If we should be caught by an English cruiser and she finds that we are headed for North America with arms and supplies, we shall be made prisoners, and lose our ship, our cargo, and perhaps our lives. I intend to follow my sailing-papers and steer for the West Indies."

"Then why didn't you say so at first?" Lafayette demanded. "I would have been willing to help you out, of course. Sail for the port of Charlestown in the Carolinas; and if we are captured, searched, robbed, or destroyed by any English cruisers or privateers I will see that you don't lose a sou. I will promise to make any loss good."

But this boy, nineteen years old, though he called himself a major-general, was not to be content with attending councils of war and keeping out of danger, as later events were to show. He was far too eager and impetuous for that, too truly a son of the wild Auvergne Mountains.

And he showed that he knew that himself, for later in the same letter to Adrienne he compared his present journey with what his father-in-law would have tried to make him do had Lafayette met the Duke d'Ayen at Marseilles. "Consider the difference between my occupation and my present life," he wrote, "and what they would have been if I had gone upon that useless journey. As the defender of that liberty which I adore; free, myself, more than any one; coming, as a friend, to offer my services to this most interesting republic, I bring with me nothing but my own free heart and my own good-will,--no ambition to fulfil and no selfish interest to serve. If I am striving for my own glory, I am at the same time laboring for the welfare of the American republic. I trust that, for my sake, you will become a good American. It is a sentiment made for virtuous hearts. The happiness of America is intimately connected with the happiness of all mankind; she is destined to become the safe and worthy asylum of virtue, integrity, tolerance, equality, and peaceful liberty."

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