Memoirs, Correspondence and Manuscripts of General Lafayette
by marquis de Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Du Motier Lafayette · English · Gutenberg #8376 · 985,426 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Memoirs, Correspondence and Manuscripts of General Lafayette
Author: marquis de Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Du Motier Lafayette
Release date: June 1, 2005 [eBook #8376]
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Language: English
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MEMOIRS
CORRESPONDENCE AND MANUSCRIPTS
OF
GENERAL LAFAYETTE
By Lafayette
Published By His Family.
Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1837,
by William A. Duer,
In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.
Respectfully to collect and scrupulously to arrange the manuscripts of
which an irreparable misfortune has rendered them depositaries, have
been for the Family of General Lafayette the accomplishment of a sacred
duty.
To publish those manuscripts without any commentary, and place them,
unaltered, in the hands of the friends of Liberty, is a pious and solemn
homage which his children now offer with confidence to his memory.
GEORGE WASHINGTON LAFAYETTE.
ADVERTISEMENT
OF THE AMERICAN EDITOR.
It was the desire of the late General Lafayette, that this edition of
his Memoirs and Correspondence should be considered as a legacy of the
American people. His representatives have accordingly pursued a course
which they conceived the best adapted to give effect to his wishes, by
furnishing a separate edition for this country, without any reservation
for their own advantage, beyond the transfer of the copyright as an
indemnity for the expense and risk of publication.
In this edition are inserted some letters which will not appear in the
editions published in Paris and London. They contain details relating to
the American Revolution, and render the present edition more complete,
or, at least, more interesting to Americans. Although written during
the first residence of General Lafayette in America--when he was little
accustomed to write in the English language--the letters in question are
given exactly as they came from his pen--and as well as the others in
the collection written by him in that language are distinguished from
those translated from the French by having the word "Original" prefixed
to them.
It was intended that these letters should have been arranged among those
in the body of the work; in the order of their respective dates; but as
the latter have been stereotyped before the former had been transmitted
to the American editor, this design was rendered impracticable. They
have therefore from necessity been added in a supplemental form with the
marginal notes which seemed requisite for their explanation.
Columbia College, N. Y., July, 1837.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
Notice by the Editors
FIRST VOYAGE AND FIRST CAMPAIGN IN AMERICA--1777, 1778.
Memoirs written by myself, until the year 1780
FRAGMENTS EXTRACTED FROM VARIOUS MANUSCRIPTS
A.--Departure for America in 1777
B.--First Interview between General Washington
and General Lafayette
C.--On the Military commands during the Winter of 1778
D.--Retreat of Barren Hill
E.--Arrival of the French Fleet
F.--Dissensions between the French Fleet
and the American Army
CORRESPONDENCE--1777, 1778:
To the Duke d'Ayen. London, March 9, 1777
To Madame de Lafayette. On board the Victory, May 30
To Madame de Lafayette. Charlestown, June 19
To Madame de Lafayette. Petersburg, July 17
To Madame de Lafayette.--July 23
To Madame de Lafayette. Philadelphia, Sept. 12
To Madame de Lafayette.--Oct. 1
To M. de Vergennes, Minister of Foreign affairs.
Whitemarsh Camp, Oct. 24
To Madame de Lafayette. Whitemarsh Camp, Oct. 29, and Nov. 6
To General Washington. Haddonfeld, Nov. 26
To the Duke d'Ayen. Camp Gulph, Pennsylvania, Dec. 16
To General Washington. Camp, Dec. 30
To General Washington. Head Quarters, Dec. 31
To General Washington. Valley Forge, Dec. 31
To Madame de Lafayette. Camp, near Valley Forge, Jan. 6, 1778
To General Washington
To Madame de Lafayette. York. Feb 3
To General Washington. Hermingtown, Feb. 9
To General Washington. Albany, Feb. 19
To General Washington.--Feb. 23
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Head Quarters, March 10
To Baron de Steuben. Albany, March 12
Fragment of a Letter to the President of Congress.
Albany, March 20
To General Washington. Albany, March 25
To Madame de Lafayette. Valley Forge Camp,
in Pennsylvania, April 14
To Madame de Lafayette. Germantown, April 28
To General Washington. Valley Forge Camp, May 19
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Camp, May 17
To the Marquis de Lafayette. (Instructions.)
To Madame de Lafayette. Valley Forge Camp, June 16
To the Marquis de Lafayette. (Instructions.)
To General Washington. Ice Town, June 26
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Cranberry, June 26
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
White Plains, July 22
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Head Quarters, White Plains, July 27
To General Washington. Providence, Aug. 6
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
White Plains, Aug. 10
To General Washington. Camp before Newport, Aug. 25
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
White Plains, Sept.
From General Washington to Major-General Sullivan.
Head Quarters, White Plains, Sept. 1
From General Washington to Major-General Greene.
Head Quarters, White Plains, Sept. 1
To General Washington. Tyverton, Sept. I
To General Washington. Camp, near Bristol, Sept. 7
To the Duke d'Ayen. Bristol, near Rhode Island, Sept. 11
To Madame de Lafayette. Bristol, near Rhode Island, Sept. 13
President Laurens to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Philadelphia, Sept. 13
Marquis de Lafayette to President Laurens. Camp, Sept. 23
To General Washington. Warren, Sept. 24
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Fredericksburg, Sept. 25
To General Washington. Camp near Warren, Sept. 24
To General Washington. Boston, Sept. 28
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Fishkill, Oct. 4
Marquis de Lafayette to President Laurens.
Philadelphia, Oct. 13
President Laurens to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Philadelphia, Oct. 24
To General Washington. Philadelphia, Oct. 24
Lord Carlisle to M. de Lafayette Marquis de Lafayette
To President Laurens. Philadelphia, Oct. 26
Fragment of a Letter from the French Minister, M. Gerard,
to Count de Vergennes.--October
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Philadelphia, Dec. 29
From General Washington to General Franklin,
American Minister in France. Philadelphia, Dec. 28
To General Washington. Boston, January 5, 1779
To General Washington. On board the Alliance,
off Boston, January 11, 1779
SECOND VOYAGE TO AMERICA, AND CAMPAIGNS OF 1780, 1781.
HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 1779, 1780, and 1781.
CORRESPONDENCE--1779-1781
To Count de Vergennes. Paris, February 24, 1779
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Camp at Middlebrook, March 8
To M. de Vergennes, Paris, April 1, and April 26
To the President of Congress. St. Jean de Angeli,
near Rochefort, June 12
To General Washington. St. Jean de Angeli,
near Rochefort harbor, June 12
To the Count de Vergennes. Havre, July 30
To M. de Vergennes. Paris, August--
Dr. Franklin to the Marquis de Lafayette. Fassy, August 24
To Dr. Franklin. Havre, August 29
Page From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
West Point, December 30
To General Washington. Havre, October 7
To M. de Vergennes. Versailles, Feb. 22, 1780
To his Excellency General Washington.
At the entrance of Boston harbor, April 27
To M. de Vergennes. Waterburg, on the Boston road,
from the Camp, May 6
From General Washington. Morris Town, May--
To the Count de Rochambeau. Philadelphia, May 19
To General Washington. Camp at Preakness, July 4
To MM. le Comte de Rochambeau and le Chevalier de Ternay.
Camp before Dobb's Ferry, August 9
From Count de Rochambeau to M. de Lafayette. Newport, August 12
To MM. de Rochambeau and de Ternay. Camp, August 18
To M. de Rochambeau. Camp, August 18
From M. de Rochambeau. Newport, August 27
To the Chevalier de la Luzerne. Robinson House,
opposite West Point, Sept. 26
To Madame de Tessé. Camp, on the right side of North River,
near the Island of New York, October 4
To General Washington. Light Camp, October 30
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Head Quarters, October 30
To General Washington. Light Camp, November 13
To General Washington, Paramus, November 28
To his Excellency General Washington. Philadelphia, Dec. 5
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
New Windsor, December 14
To M. de Vergennes. New Windsor, on the North River,
January 30, 1781
To Madame de Lafayette. New Windsor, on the North River,
February 2
To General Washington. Elk, March 8
To General Washington. On board the Dolphin, March 9
To General Washington. Williamsburg, March 23
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette.
New Windsor, April 6
To General Washington. Elk, April 8
To Colonel Hamilton. Susquehannah Ferry, April 18
To General Washington. Baltimore, April 18
To General Washington. Alexandria, April 23
From General Washington to the Marquis de Lafayette
New Windsor, May 4
From General Washington to Lund Washington.
New Windsor, April 30
To General Washington. Camp Wilton, on James River, May 17
From General Phillips to the Marquis de Lafayette.
British Camp at Osborn, April 28
From General Phillips to the Marquis de Lafayette.
Camp at Osborn, April 29
To Major General Phillips. American Camp, April 30
To Major-General Phillips.--May 3
Note for Captain Emyne.--May 15
Note from General Arnold to Captain Ragedale
To General Washington. Richmond, May 24
To General Washington. Camp, June 28
Extracts of several Letters to General Washington
To Madame de Lafayette. Camp, between the branches
of York River, August 24
To M. de Vergennes. Camp between the branches
of York River, August 24
To M de Maurepas. Camp, between the branches
of York River, August 24
To General Washington. Holt's Forge, September 1
To General Washington. Williamsburg, September 8
To General Washington. Camp before York, October 16
To M. de Maurepas. Camp near York, October 20
To M. de Vergennes. Camp near York, October 20
To Madame de Lafayette. On board La Ville de Paris,
Chesapeake Bay, October 22
The Marquis de Ségur to M. de Lafayette.--Dec. 5
To General Washington. Alliance, off Boston, December 21
ADDITIONAL CORRESPONDENCE.
To General Washington. Robins' Tavern, June 26, 1778
To General Washington. Cranbarry, June--
To General Washington.--June 28
To General Washington. Cranbarry, June 29
To the Count de Vergennes. St. Jean de Angeli, June, 1779
To the Count de Vergennes. Havre, July 9
To the President of Congress. Havre, October 7
To General Washington. Peekskill, July 20, 1780
To General Washington. Danbury, July 21
To General Washington. Hartford, July 22
To General Washington. Lebanon, July 23
To General Washington. Newport, July 26
To General Washington. Newport, July 26
To General Washington. Newport, July 29
To General Washington. Newport, July 31
To General Washington. Newport, August 1
To General Washington. Elizabethtown, October 27
To General Washington. Light Camp, October 27
To General Washington. Philadelphia, December 4
To General Washington.--December 5
To General Washington. Philadelphia, December 16
To General Washington. Philadelphia, March 2, 1781
To General Washington. Head of Elk, March 7
To General Washington. Off Turkey Point, March 9
To General Washington. York, March 15
To General Washington. Elk, April 10
To General Washington. Susquehannah Ferry, April 13
To General Washington. Susquehannah Ferry, April 13
To General Washington. Susquehannah Ferry, April 14
To Major-General Greene. Hanover Court House, April 28
To General Greene. Camp on Pamunkey River, May 3
To General Washington. Camp near Bottom's Creek, May 4
To General Washington. Richmond, May 8
To General Washington. Welton, north side of James River, May 18
To Colonel Hamilton. Richmond, May 23
To General Washington. Richmond, May 24
To General Washington. Camp between Rappanannock
and North Anna, June 3
To General Greene. Camp between Rappahannock
and North Anna, June 3
To General Greene. Allen's Creek, June 18
To General Greene. Mr. Tyter's Plantation, June 27
To General Greene. Ambler's Plantation, July 8
To General Washington. Mrs. Ruffin's, August 29
To General Washington. Holt's Forge, September 1
To General Washington. Camp Williamsburg, September 8
To General Washington. Williamsburg, September 10
To General Washington. Camp before York, Sept. 30
To General Washington.--November 29
APPENDIX.
I.--A Summary of the Campaign of 1781, explanatory of the Map
II.--Letter from M. de Lafayette to M. de Vergennes
NOTICE BY THE EDITORS.
Under the title of _Revolution of America_, are comprised eight years of
M. de Lafayette's life, from the commencement of 1771 until the end of
1784. His three voyages to the United States divide those eight years
into three periods: 1777, 1778; 1779-1781; and 1782-1784.~[1]
1st. Circumstantial Memoirs, written for his friends after the peace
of Versailles, and which were to have extended to 1780, open this
collection.
2nd. These are continued and completed by two detached relations,
composed between 1800 and 1814; the first, which has no title, and might
be called _Notice of the American Life of General Lafayette_, appears to
have been written for a person intending to publish the history of the
war, or of General Washington; the second is entitled, _Observations on
some portion of American History, by a friend of General Lafayette_.
As these two relations, both written by M. de Lafayette, and which we
designate under the names of Manuscript, No. 1, and manuscript, No. 2,
contain a second, and occasionally a third, account of events already
mentioned in the Memoirs, we have only inserted quotations from them.
3rd. A relation of the campaign in Virginia, in 1781, shall be inserted
in its complete state.
4th. Extracts from the collection of the general's speeches, begun
by him in 1829, will give some details of his third voyage to America
(1784).
5th. With the account of each particular period that portion of the
correspondence which may relate to it will be inserted. From a great
number of letters, written from America, and addressed either to
France or to America, or from France to America, those only have been
suppressed whose repetitions or details, purely military, would render
them uninteresting to the public.
6th. In the Correspondence, some letters have been inserted from General
Washington, and other contemporaries, and also some historical records,
of which M. de Lafayette had taken copies, or which have been extracted
from various collections published in the United States.
Footnote
1. M. de Lafayette (Marie-Paul-Joseph-Roch-Yves-Gilbert Motier) born at
Chavaniae, in Auvergne, the 6th of September, 1757; married the 11th
of April, 1774; set out for America the 26th of April, 1777. The other
dates will be mentioned in proper order, with each particular event. All
the notes which are not followed by the name of M. de Lafayette, may be
attributed to the members of his family, sole editors of this work.
* * * * *
TO THE READER.~[1]
When, devoted from early youth to the ambition of liberty, I beheld no
limit to the path that I had opened for myself, it appeared to me that
I was sufficiently fulfilling my destiny, and satisfying my glory,
by rushing incessantly forward, and leaving to others the care of
collecting the recollections, as well as the fruits, of my labour.
After having enjoyed an uninterrupted course of good fortune for fifteen
years, I presented myself, with a favourable prospect of success, before
the coalition of kings, and the aristocracy of Europe: I was overthrown
by the simultaneous fury of French jacobinism. My person was then given
up to the vengeance of my natural enemies, and my reputation to the
calumnies of those self-styled patriots who had so lately violated every
sworn and national guarantee. It is well known that the regimen of my
five years' imprisonment was not favourable to literary occupations,
and when, on my deliverance from prison, I was advised to write an
explanation of my conduct, I was disgusted with all works of the
kind, by the numerous memoirs or notices by which so many persons had
trespassed upon the attention of the public. Events had also spoken for
us; and many accusers, and many accusations, had fallen into oblivion.
As soon as I returned to France, my friends requested me to write
memoirs: I found excuses for not doing so in my reluctance to judge
with severity the first jacobin chiefs who have shared since in my
proscription,--the _Girondins_, who have died for those very principles
they had opposed and persecuted in me,--the king and queen, whose
lamentable fate only allows me to pride myself upon some services I
have rendered them,--and the vanquished royalists, who are at present
deprived of fortune, and exposed to every arbitrary measure. I ought to
add, likewise that, happy in my retreat, in the bosom of my family
and occupied with agricultural pursuits, I know not how to purloin one
moment from the enjoyments of my domestic life.
But my friends have renewed their request, and to comply in some degree
with it, I have consented to place in order the few papers that I still
possess and assemble together some relations which have been already
published, and unite, by notes, the whole collection, in which my
children and friends may one day find materials for a less insignificant
work. As to myself, I acknowledge that my indolence in this respect
is owing to the intimate conviction which I feel, that liberty will
ultimately be established in the old as well as in the new world, and
that then the history of our revolutions will put all things and all
persons in their proper places.
Footnote
1. Although this notice, written a short time after the 18th _Brumaire_,
be anterior to a great number of events, in the midst of which General
Lafayette continued his public life, we have placed it in this part of
the work, as a sort of general introduction to the various materials it
contains.
FIRST VOYAGE
AND
FIRST CAMPAIGN IN AMERICA 1777-1778.
MEMOIRS WRITTEN BY MYSELF,~[1]
UNTIL THE YEAR 1780.
TO MY FRIENDS.
If I were to confound, as is too often done, obstinacy with firmness, I
should blush at beginning these memoirs, after having so long refused
to do so, and at even increasing their apparent egotism by my style,
instead of sheltering myself under cover of the third person; but I will
not yield a half compliance to the request of that tender friendship
which is far more valuable to me than the ephemeral success which
a journal might obtain. It is sufficient for me to know that this
relation, intended for a few friends only, will never extend beyond
their circle: it even possesses two very great advantages over many
celebrated books: these are, that the public not being concerned in
this work it cannot need a preface, and that the dedication of affection
cannot require an epistle.
It would be too poetical to place myself at once in another hemisphere,
and too minute to dwell upon the particulars of my birth, which soon
followed the death of my father at Minden;~[2] of my education in
Auvergne, with tender and revered relations; of my removal, at twelve
years of age to a college at Paris,~[3] where I soon lost my virtuous
mother,~[4] and where the death of her father rendered me rich, although
I had been born, comparatively speaking, poor; of some schoolboy
successes, inspired by the love of glory and somewhat disturbed by that
of liberty; of my entrance into the regiment of the black musketeers,
which only interrupted my studies on review days; and finally, of my
marriage, at the age of sixteen, preceded by a residence at the academy
of Versailles.~[5] I have still less to say relating to my entrance into
the world; to the short favour I enjoyed as constituting one member of
a youthful society; to some promises to the regiment de Noailles; and to
the unfavourable opinion entertained of me owing to my habitual silence
when I did not think the subjects discussing worthy of being canvassed.
The bad effects produced by disguised self-love and an observing
disposition, were not softened by a natural simplicity of manner, which,
without being improper on any great occasion, rendered it impossible for
me to bend to the graces of the court, or to the charms of a supper in
the capital.
You ask me at what period I first experienced my ardent love of liberty
and glory? I recollect no time of my life anterior to my enthusiasm for
anecdotes of glorious deeds, and to my projects of travelling over the
world to acquire fame. At eight years of age, my heart beat when I heard
of a hyena that had done some injury, and caused still more alarm, in
our neighbourhood, and the hope of meeting it was the object of all my
walks. When I arrived at college, nothing ever interrupted my studies,
except my ardent wish of studying without restraint. I never deserved to
be chastised; but, in spite of my usual gentleness, it would have been
dangerous to have attempted to do so; and I recollect with pleasure
that, when I was to described in rhetoric a perfect courser, I
sacrificed the hope of obtaining a premium, and described the one who,
on perceiving the whip, threw down his rider. Republican anecdotes
always delighted me, and when my new connexions wished to obtain for
me a place at court, I did not hesitate displeasing them to preserve my
independence.~[6] I was in that frame of mind when I first learnt the
troubles in America; they only became thoroughly known in Europe in
1776, and the memorable declaration of the 4th of July reached France at
the close of that same year.
After having crowned herself with laurels and enriched herself with
conquests; after having become mistress of all seas; and after having
insulted all nations, England had turned her pride against her own
colonies. North America had long been displeasing to her; she wished
to add new vexations to former injuries, and to destroy the most sacred
privileges. The Americans, attached to the mother country, contented
themselves at first with merely uttering complaints; they only accused
the ministry, and the whole nation rose up against them; they were
termed insolent and rebellious, and at length declared the enemies of
their country: thus did the obstinacy of the king, the violence of the
ministers, and the arrogance of the English nation, oblige thirteen of
their colonies to render themselves independent. Such a glorious cause
had never before attracted the attention of mankind; it was the last
struggle of Liberty; and had she then been vanquished, neither hope nor
asylum would have remained for her. The oppressors and oppressed were to
receive a powerful lesson; the great work was to be accomplished, or the
rights of humanity were to fall beneath its ruin. The destiny of France
and that of her rival were to be decided at the same moment; England
was to lose, with the new states, an important commerce, of which she
derived the sole advantage,--one quarter of her subjects, who were
constantly augmenting by a rapid increase of population, and by
emigration from all parts of Europe,--in a word, more than half of the
most beautiful portion of the British territory. But if she retained
possession of her thirteen colonies, all was ended for our West
Indies, our possessions in Asia and Africa, our maritime commerce, and
consequently our navy and our political existence.
(1776.) When I first learnt the subject of the quarrel, my heart
espoused warmly the cause of liberty, and I thought of nothing but of
adding also the aid of my banner.~[7] Some circumstances, which it would
be needless to relate, had taught me to expect only obstacles in this
case from my own family; I depended, therefore, solely upon myself, and
I ventured to adopt for a device on my arms these words--"_Cur non?_"
that they might equally serve as an encouragement to my-self, and as a
reply to others. Silas Deane was then at Paris; but the ministers feared
to receive him, and his voice was overpowered by the louder accents of
Lord Stormont. He despatched privately to America some old arms, which
were of little use, and some young officers, who did but little
good, the whole directed by M. de Beaumarchais; and when the English
ambassador spoke to our court, it denied having sent any cargoes,
ordered those that were preparing to be discharged, and dismissed from
our ports all American privateers. Whilst wishing to address myself in a
direct manner to Mr. Deane, I became the friend of Kalb, a German in
our employ, who was applying for service with the _insurgents_, (the
expression in use at that time,) and who became my interpreter. He was
the person sent by M. de Choiseul to examine the English colonies; and
on his return he received some money, but never succeeded in obtaining
an audience, so little did that minister in reality think of the
revolution whose retrograde movements some persons have inscribed to
him! When I presented to Mr. Deane my boyish face, (for I was scarcely
nineteen years of age,) I spoke more of my ardour in the cause than
of my experience; but I dwelt much upon the effect my departure would
excite in France, and he signed our mutual agreement. The secrecy with
which this negotiation and my preparations were made appears almost a
miracle; family, friends, ministers; French spies and English spies,
all were kept completely in the dark as to my intentions. Amongst my
discreet confidants, I owe much to M. du Boismartin,~[8] secretary
of the Count de Broglie, and to the Count de Broglie himself, whose
affectionate heart, when all his efforts to turn me from this project
had proved in vain, entered into my views with even paternal tenderness.
Preparations were making to send a vessel to America, when very bad
tidings arrived from thence. New York, Long Island, White Plains, Fort
Washington, and the Jerseys, had seen the American forces successively
destroyed by thirty-three thousand Englishmen or Germans. Three thousand
Americans alone remained in arms, and these were closely pursued
by General Howe. From that moment all the credit of the insurgents
vanished; to obtain a vessel for them was impossible: the envoys
themselves thought it right to express to me their own discouragement,
and persuade me to abandon my project. I called upon Mr. Deane, and I
thanked him for his frankness.
"Until now, sir," said I, "you have only seen my ardour in your cause,
and that may not prove at present wholly useless. I shall purchase a
ship to carry out your officers; we must feel confidence in the future,
and it is especially in the hour of danger that I wish to share your
fortune."~[9] My project was received with approbation; but it was
necessary afterwards to find money, and to purchase and arm a vessel
secretly: all this was accomplished with the greatest despatch.
The period was, however, approaching, which had been long fixed for
my taking a journey to England;~[10] I could not refuse to go without
risking the discovery of my secret, and by consenting to take this
journey I knew I could better conceal my preparations for a greater one.
This last measure was also thought most expedient by MM. Franklin and
Deane; for the doctor himself was then in France; and although I did not
venture to go to his house, for fear of being seen, I corresponded with
him through M. Carmichael, an American less generally known. I arrived
in London with M. de Poix; and I first paid my respects to Bancroft, the
American, and afterwards to his British Majesty. A youth of nineteen may
be, perhaps, too fond of playing a trick upon the king he is going to
fight with,--of dancing at the house of Lord Germaine minister for the
English colonies, and at the house of Lord Rawdon, who had just returned
from New York,--and of seeing at the opera that Clinton, whom he was
afterwards to meet at Monmouth. But whilst I concealed my intentions, I
openly avowed my sentiments; I often defended the Americans; I rejoiced
at their success at Trenton; and my spirit of opposition obtained for
me an invitation to breakfast with Lord Shelbourne. I refused the offers
made me to visit the sea ports, the vessels fitting out against the
_rebels_, and everything that might be construed into an abuse of
confidence. At the end of three weeks, when it became necessary for
me to return home, whilst refusing my uncle,~[11] the ambassador, to
accompany him to court, I confided to him my strong desire to take a
trip to Paris. He proposed saying that I was ill during my absence. I
should not have made use of this stratagem myself, but I did not object
to his doing so.
After having suffered dreadfully in the channel, and being reminded, as
a consolation, how very short the voyage would be, I arrived at M. de
Kalb's house in Paris, concealed myself three days at Chaillot, saw a
few of my friends and some Americans, and set out for Bordeaux, where
I was for some time unexpectedly delayed.~[12] I took advantage of that
delay to send to Paris, from whence the intelligence I received was by
no means encouraging; but as my messenger was followed on his road by
one from the government, I lost not a moment in setting sail, and the
orders of my sovereign were only able to overtake me at Passage, a
Spanish port, at which we stopped on our way. The letters from my
own family were extremely violent, and those from the government were
peremptory. I was forbidden to proceed to the American continent under
the penalty of disobedience; I was enjoined to repair instantly to
Marseilles, and await there further orders. A sufficient number of
commentaries were not wanting upon the consequences of such an anathema,
the laws of the state, and the power and displeasure of the government:
but the grief of his wife, who was pregnant, and the thoughts of his
family and friends, had far more effect upon M. de Lafayette.~[13] As
his vessel could no longer be stopped, he returned to Bordeaux to enter
into a justification of his own conduct; and, in a declaration to M. de
Fumel, he took upon himself all the consequences of his present evasion.
As the court did not deign to relax in its determination, he wrote to M.
de Maurepas that that silence was a tacit consent, and his own departure
took place soon after that joking despatch. After having set out on the
road to Marseilles, he retraced his steps, and, disguised as a courier,
he had almost escaped all danger, when, at Saint Jean de Luz, a young
girl recognised him; but a sign from him silenced her, and her adroit
fidelity turned away all suspicion. It was thus that M. de Lafayette
rejoined his ship, the 26th of April 1777; and on that same day,
after six months anxiety and labour, he set sail for the American
continent.~[14]
* * * * *
(1777.) As soon as M. de Lafayette had recovered from the effects of
sea sickness, he studied the language and trade he was adopting. A heavy
ship, two bad cannons, and some guns, could not have escaped from the
smallest privateer. In his present situation, he resolved rather to blow
up the vessel than to surrender; he concerted measures to achieve this
end with a brave Dutchman named Bedaulx, whose sole alternative, if
taken, would have been the gibbet. The captain insisted upon stopping at
the islands; but government and orders would have been found there, and
he followed a direct course, less from choice than from compulsion.~[15]
At forty leagues from shore, they were met by a small vessel: the
captain turned pale, but the crew were attached to M. de Lafatette, and
the officers were numerous: they made a show of resistance. It turned
out, fortunately, to be an American ship, whom they vainly endeavoured
to keep up with; but scarcely had the former lost sight of M. de
Lafayette's vessel, when it fell in with two English frigates,--and this
is not the only time when the elements seemed bent on opposing M.
de Lafayette, as if with the intention of saving him. After having
encountered for seven weeks various perils and chances, he arrived
at Georgetown, in Carolina. Ascending the river in a canoe, his foot
touched at length the American soil, and he swore that he would
conquer or perish in that cause. Landing at midnight at Major Huger's
house,~[16] he found a vessel sailing for France, which appeared only
waiting for his letters. Several of the officers landed, others remained
on board, and all hastened to proceed to Charleston:
This beautiful city is worthy of its inhabitants and everything there
announced not only comfort but even luxury. Without knowing much of M.
de Lafayette, the generals Howe,~[17] Moultrie, and Gulden, received him
with the utmost kindness and attention. The new works were shown him,
and also that battery which Moultrie afterwards defended so extremely
well, and which the English appear, we must acknowledge, to have seized
the only possible means of destroying. Several adventurers, the
refuse of the islands, endeavoured vainly to unite themselves to M.
de Lafayette, and to infuse into his mind their own feelings and
prejudices. Having procured horses, he set out with six officers for
Philadelphia. His vessel had arrived, but it was no longer protected by
fortune, and on its return home it was lost on the bar of Charlestown To
repair to the congress of the United States, M. de Lafayette rode
nearly nine hundred miles on horseback; before reaching the capital
of Pennsylvania, he was obliged to travel through the two Carolinas,
Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware. Whilst studying the language and
customs of the inhabitants, he observed also new productions of nature,
and new methods of cultivation: vast forests and immense rivers combine
to give to that country an appearance of youth and majesty. After a
fatiguing journey of one month, he beheld at length that Philadelphia,
so well known in the present day, and whose future grandeur Penn
appeared to designate when he laid the first stone of its foundation.
After having accomplished his noble manoeuvres at Trenton and
Princetown, General Washington had remained in his camp at Middlebrook.
The English, finding themselves frustrated in their first hopes,
combined to make a decisive campaign. Burgoyne was already advancing
with ten thousand men, preceded by his proclamations and his savages.
Ticonderoga, a famous stand of arms, was abandoned by Saint-Clair; he
drew upon himself much public odium by this deed, but he saved the
only corps whom the militia could rally round. Whilst the generals were
busied assembling the militia, the congress recalled them, sent Gates
their place, and used all possible means to support him. At that same
time the great English army, of about eighteen thousand men, had sailed
from New York, and the two Howes were uniting their forces for a secret
enterprise; Rhode Island was occupied by a hostile corps, and General
Clinton who had remained at New York, was there preparing for an
expedition. To be able to withstand many various blows, General
Washington, leaving Putnam on the north river, crossed over the
Delaware, and encamped, with eleven thousand men, within reach of
Philadelphia.
It was under these circumstances that M. de Lafayette first arrived in
America; but the moment, although important to the common cause, was
peculiarly unfavourable to strangers. The Americans were displeased with
the pretensions, and disgusted with the conduct, of many Frenchmen; the
imprudent selections they had in some cases made, the extreme boldness
of some foreign adventurers, the jealousy of the army, and strong
national prejudices, all contributed to confound disinterested zeal with
private ambition, and talents with quackery. Supported by the promises
which had been given by Mr. Deane, a numerous band of foreigners
besieged the congress; their chief was a clever but very imprudent man,
and although a good officer, his excessive vanity amounted almost
to madness. With M. de Lafayette, Mr. Deane had sent out a fresh
detachment, and every day such crowds arrived, that the congress had
finally adopted the plan of not listening to any stranger. The coldness
with which M. de Lafayette was received, might have been taken as a
dismissal; but, without appearing disconcerted by the manner in
which the deputies addressed him,~[18] he entreated them to return to
congress, and read the following note:--
"After the sacrifices I have made, I have the right to exact two
favours: one is, to serve at my own expense,--the other is, to serve at
first as volunteer."
This style, to which they were so little accustomed, awakened their
attention; the despatches from the envoys were read over, and, in a very
flattering resolution, the rank of major-general was granted to M. de
Lafayette. Amongst the various officers who accompanied him, several
were strangers to him; he was interested, however, for them all, and to
those whose services were not accepted an indemnity for their trouble
was granted. Some months afterwards, M.----- drowned himself in the
Schuylkill, and the loss of that impetuous and imprudent man was perhaps
a fortunate circumstance.
The two Howes having appeared before the capes of the Delaware, General
Washington came to Philadelphia, and M. de Lafayette beheld for the
first time that great man.~[19] Although he was surrounded by officers
and citizens, it was impossible to mistake for a moment his majestic
figure and deportment; nor was he less distinguished by the noble
affability of his manner. M. de Lafayette accompanied him in his
examination of the fortifications. Invited by the General to establish
himself in his house, he looked upon it from that moment as his own:
with this perfect ease and simplicity, was formed the tie that united
two friends, whose confidence and attachment were to be cemented by the
strongest interests of humanity.~[20]
The American army, stationed some miles from Philadelphia, was waiting
until the movements the hostile army should be decided: the General
himself reviewed the troops; M. de Lafayette arrived there the same day.
About eleven thousand men, ill armed, and still worse clothed, presented
a strange spectacle to the eye of the young Frenchman: their clothes
were parti-coloured, and many of them were almost naked; the best clad
wore _hunting shirts_, large grey linen coats which were much used in
Carolina. As to their military tactics, it will be sufficient to say
that, for a regiment ranged in order of battle to move forward on the
right of its line, it was necessary for the left to make a continued
counter march. They were always arranged in two lines, the smallest men
in the first line; no other distinction as to height was ever observed.
In spite of these disadvantages, the soldiers were fine, and the
officers zealous; virtue stood in place of science, and each day added
both to experience and discipline. Lord Stirling, more courageous than
judicious, another general, who was often intoxicated, and Greene, whose
talents were only then known to his immediate friends, commanded
as majors-general. General Knox, who had changed the profession of
bookseller to that of artillery officer, was there also, and had
himself formed other officers, and created an artillery. "We must feel
embarrassed," said General Washington, on his arrival, "to exhibit
ourselves before an officer who has just quitted French troops." "It
is to learn, and not to teach, that I come hither," replied M. de
Lafayette; and that modest tone, which was not common in Europeans,
produced a very good effect.
After having menaced the Delaware, the English fleet again disappeared,
and during some days the Americans amused themselves by making jokes
at its expense. These jokes, however, ceased when it reappeared in
the Chesapeak; and, in order to approach it more closely during the
disembarkation, the patriot army crossed through the town. Their heads
covered with green branches, and marching to the sound of drums and
fifes, these soldiers, in spite of their state of nudity, offered an
agreeable spectacle to the eyes of all the citizens. General Washington
was marching at their head, and M. de Lafayette was by his side. The
army stationed itself upon the heights of Wilmington, and that of the
enemy landed in the Elk river, at the bottom of Chesapeak bay. The very
day they landed, General Washington exposed himself to danger in the
most imprudent manner; after having reconnoitred for a long time the
enemy's position, he was overtaken by a storm during a very dark night,
entered a farm house close to the hostile army, and, from a reluctance
to change his own opinion, remained there with General Greene, M. de
Lafayette, and their aide-de-camp; but when at day break he quitted the
farm, he acknowledged that any one traitor might have caused his ruin.
Some days later, Sullivan's division joined the army, which augmented it
in all to thirteen thousand men. This Major-General Sullivan made a good
beginning, but a bad ending, in an intended surprise on Staten Island.
If, by making too extensive a plan of attack, the English committed a
great error, it must also be acknowledged that the Americans were not
irreproachable in their manner of defence. Burgoyne, leading his army,
with their heads bent upon the ground, into woods from whence he could
not extricate them, dragged on, upon a single road, his numerous cannons
and rich military equipages. Certain of not being attacked from behind,
the Americans could dispute every step they took: this kind of warfare
attracted the militia, and Gates improved each day in strength. Every
tree sheltered a skilful rifleman, and the resources offered by military
tactics, and the talents even of their chiefs, had become useless to
the English. The corps left in New York could, it is true, laugh at the
corps of Putnam, but it was too feeble to succour Burgoyne; and instead
of being able to secure his triumph, its own fate was even dependent
upon his. During that time, Howe was only thinking of Philadelphia, and
it was at the expense of the northern expedition that he was repairing
thither by an enormous circuit. But, on the other side, why were the
English permitted to land so tranquilly? Why was the moment allowed to
pass when their army was divided by the river Elk? Why in the south were
so many false movements and so much hesitation displayed? Because the
Americans had hitherto had combats but not battles; because, instead of
harassing an army and disputing hollows, they were obliged to protect
an open city, and manoeuvre in a plain, close to a hostile army, who,
by attacking them from behind, might completely ruin them. General
Washington, had he followed the advice of the people, would have
enclosed his army in a city, and thus have entrusted to one hazard the
fate of America; but, whilst refusing to commit such an act of folly, he
was obliged to make some sacrifice, and gratify the nation by a battle.
Europe even expected it; and although he had been created a dictator
for six months, the General thought he ought to submit everything to the
orders of congress, and to the deliberations of a council of war.
After having advanced as far as Wilmington, the general had detached a
thousand men under Maxwell, the most ancient brigadier in the army. At
the first march of the English, he was beaten by their advance
guard near Christiana Bridge. During that time the army took but an
indifferent station at Newport; they then removed a little south, waited
two days for the enemy, and, at the moment when these were marching upon
their right wing, a nocturnal council of war decided that the army was
to proceed to the Brandywine. The stream bearing that name covered its
front; the ford called Chad's Ford, placed nearly in the centre, was
defended by batteries. It was in that scarcely examined station that, in
obedience to a letter from congress, the Americans awaited the battle.
The evening of the 10th of September, Howe advanced in two columns,
and, by a very fine movement, the left column (about 8000 men under Lord
Cornwallis, with grenadiers and guards) directed themselves towards
the fords of Birmingham, three miles on our right; the other column
continued its road, and at about nine o'clock in the morning it appeared
on the other side of the stream. The enemy was so near the skirts of the
wood that it was impossible to judge of his force some time was lost in
a mutual cannonading. General Washington walked along his two lines, and
was received with acclamations which seemed to promise him success. The
intelligence that was received of the movements of Cornwallis was both
confused and contradictory; owing to the conformity of name betwixt two
roads that were of equal length and parallel to each other, the best
officers were mistaken in their reports. The only musket shots that had
been fired were from Maxwell, who killed several of the enemy, but was
driven back upon the left of the American army, across a ford by which
he had before advanced. Three thousand militia had been added to the
army, but they were placed in the rear to guard some still more distant
militia, and took no part themselves in the action. Such was the
situation of the troops when they learnt the march of Lord Cornwallis
towards the scarcely known fords of Birmingham: they then detached three
divisions, forming about five thousand men, under the generals Sullivan,
Stirling, and Stephen. M. de Lafayette, as volunteer, had always
accompanied the general. The left wing remaining in a state of
tranquillity, and the right appearing fated to receive all the heavy
blows, he obtained permission to join Sullivan. At his arrival, which
seemed to inspirit the troops, he found that, the enemy having crossed
the ford, the corps of Sullivan had scarcely had time to form itself
on a line in front of a thinly-wooded forest. A few moments after, Lord
Cornwallis formed in the finest order: advancing across the plain, his
first line opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery; the Americans
returned the fire, and did much injury to the enemy; but their right and
left wings having given way, the generals and several officers joined
the central division, in which were M. de Lafayette and Stirling, and
of which eight hundred men were commanded in a most brilliant manner
by Conway, an Irishman, in the service of France. By separating that
division from its two wings, and advancing through an open plain, in
which they lost many men, the enemy united all their fire upon the
centre: the confusion became extreme; and it was whilst M. de Lafayette
was rallying the troops that a ball passed through his leg;--at that
moment all those remaining on the field gave way. M. de Lafayette was
indebted to Gimat, his aide-de-camp, for the happiness of getting upon
his horse. General Washington arrived from a distance with fresh troops;
M. de Lafayette was preparing to join him, when loss of blood obliged
him to stop and have his wound bandaged; he was even very near being
taken. Fugitives, cannon, and baggage now crowded without order into the
road leading to Chester. The general employed the remaining daylight
in checking the enemy: some regiments behaved extremely well but the
disorder was complete. During that time the ford of Chad was forced, the
cannon taken and the Chester road became the common retreat of the whole
army. In the midst of that dreadful confusion, and during the darkness
of the night, it was impossible to recover; but at Chester, twelve miles
from the field of battle, they met with a bridge which it was necessary
to cross; M. de Lafayette occupied himself in arresting the fugitives;
some degree of order was re-established; the generals and the
commander-in-chief arrived; and he had leisure to have his wound
dressed.
It was thus, at twenty-six miles from Philadelphia, that the fate of
that town was decided, (11th September, 1777.) The inhabitants had heard
every cannon that was fired there; the two parties, assembled in two
distinct bands in all the squares and public places, had awaited the
event in silence. The last courier at length arrived, and the friends of
Liberty were thrown into consternation. The Americans had lost from 1000
to 1200 men. Howe's army was composed of about 12,000 men; their losses
had been so considerable that their surgeons and those in the country,
were found insufficient, and they requested the American army to supply
them with some for their prisoners. If the enemy had marched to
Derby, the army would have been cut up and destroyed: they lost an
all-important night; and this was perhaps their greatest fault, during a
war in which they committed so many errors.
M. de Lafayette, having been conveyed by water to Philadelphia, was
carefully attended to by the citizens, who were all interested in his
situation and extreme youth. That same evening the congress determined
to quit the city: a vast number of the inhabitants deserted their own
hearths--whole families, abandoning their possessions, and uncertain of
the future, took refuge in the mountains. M. de Lafayette was carried
to Bristol in a boat; he there saw the fugitive congress, who only
assembled again on the other side of the Susquehannah; he was himself
conducted to Bethlehem, a Moravian establishment, where the mild
religion of the brotherhood, the community of fortune, education, and
interests, amongst that large and simple family, formed a striking
contrast to scenes of blood, and the convulsions occasioned by a civil
war.
After the Brandywine defeat, the two armies maneouvered along the banks
of the Schuylkill. General Washington still remained on a height above
the enemy, and completely out of his reach; nor had they again an
opportunity of cutting him off. Waine, an American brigadier, was
detached to observe the English; but, being surprised during the night,
near the White-Horse, by General Grey, he lost there the greatest part
of his corps. At length Howe crossed the Schuylkill at Swede's Ford, and
Lord Cornwallis entered Philadelphia.
In spite of the declaration of independence of the New States,
everything there bore the appearance of a civil war. The names of Whig
and Tory distinguished the republicans and royalists; the English army
was still called the _regular troops_; the British sovereign was always
designated by the name of the king. Provinces, towns, and families were
divided by the violence of party spirit: brothers, officers in the two
opposing armies, meeting by chance in their father's house, have seized
their arms to fight with each other. Whilst, in the rancour of
their pride, the English committed horrible acts of licence and
cruelty,--whilst discipline dragged in her train those venal Germans
who knew only how to kill, burn, and pillage, in the same army were
seen regiments of Americans, who, trampling under foot their brethren,
assisted in enslaving their wasted country. Each canton contained a
still greater number whose sole object was to injure the friends of
liberty, and give information to those of despotism. To these inveterate
Tories must be added the number of those whom fear, private interest, or
religion, rendered adverse to war. If the Presbyterians, the children
of Cromwell and Fairfax, detested royalty, the Lutherans, who had sprung
from it, were divided among themselves: the Quakers hated slaughter, but
served willingly as guides to the royal troops. Insurrections were by
no means uncommon: near the enemy's stations, farmers often shot each
other; robbers were even encouraged. The republican chiefs were exposed
to great dangers when they travelled through the country; it was always
necessary for them to declare that they should pass the night in one
house, then take possession of another, barricade themselves in it,
and only sleep with their arms by their side. In the midst of these
troubles, M. de Lafayette was no longer considered as a stranger; never
was any adoption more complete than his own: and whilst, in the councils
of war, he trembled when he considered that his voice (at twenty years
of age) might decide the fate of two worlds, he was also initiated in
those deliberations in which, by reassuring the Whigs, intimidating the
Tories, supporting an ideal money, and redoubling their firmness in the
hour of adversity, the American chiefs conducted that revolution through
so many obstacles.
Confined to his bed for six weeks, M. de Lafayette suffered from his
wound, but still more severely from his inactivity. The good Moravian
brothers loved him, and deplored his warlike folly. Whilst listening to
their sermons, he planned setting Europe and Asia in a flame. As he was
no longer able to do anything but write, he wrote to the commander of
la Martinique, and proposed to him to make a descent upon the English
islands under American colours. He wrote also to M. de Maurepas, and
offered to conduct some Americans to the Isle of France, concerting
previously with individuals an attack upon the English factories.~[21]
From the particulars which have since become known, that project in
India would have succeeded; but it was rejected at Versailles, where no
answers were yet vouchsafed to M. de Lafayette's letters. Bouillé more
ardent in temper, would have adopted the whole plan, but he could not
act without permission; and these delays led to the period of the war
which M. de Lafayette was so desirous of bringing on.
During his residence at Bethlehem, the English entrenched themselves at
Philadelphia. The two rivers which encompassed the town were united by
a chain of wooden palisades and good redoubts, partly covered by an
inundation. A portion of their army was encamped at Germantown, five
miles in advance of those lines; these were attacked, the 4th of
October, by Washington, and although his left column was retarded by an
absurd precedence of divisions, and misled by a thick fog,--although
the advance guard of the right, under Conway, attacked in front what
it ought to have attacked in flank, the enemy was not less taken by
surprise and beaten, and the general, with his victorious wing, passed
through the whole extent of the enemy's encampment. All things went on
well until then; but a false movement of the left column, and still
more the attack of a stone house which they should have turned, gave
the enemy time to rally. Howe was thinking of a retreat, but Cornwallis
arrived in haste with a reinforcement. The Americans repassed through
the English encampment, and the action ended by a complete defeat. Many
men were lost on both sides. General Agnew, an Englishman, and General
Nash, an American, were killed. The Americans had some dragoons under
Pulaski, the only one of the confederated Poles who had refused to
accept a pardon. He was an intrepid knight, a libertine and devotee,
and a better captain than general; he insisted on being a Pole on
all occasions, and M. de Lafayette, after having contributed to his
reception in the army, often exerted himself to effect a reconciliation
betwixt him and the other officers. Without waiting for his wound to
be closed, M. de Lafayette returned to head-quarters, twenty-five miles
from Philadelphia. The enemy, who had fallen back upon their lines,
attacked Fort Mifflin, upon an island, and Fort Red-Bank, on the left
side of the Delaware. Some _chevaux de frise_, protected by the forts,
and some galleys, stopped the fleet, magazines, and detachments which
had been sent from the Chesapeak. Amongst the skirmishes which took
place betwixt small parties of soldiers, the most remarkable one was
the surprise of a corps of militia at Cevoked-Billet,~[22] in which the
English burnt their wounded prisoners in a barn. Such was the situation
of the south, when news was received of the capitulation of Burgoyne.
That general, when he quitted Canada, had made a diversion on his right;
but Saint Leger had failed in an operation against Fort Schuyler; and he
himself, by advancing towards Albany, appeared to have lost much time.
Gates was constantly adding numerous militia to his continental troops.
All the citizens being armed militia, a signal of alarm assembled them,
or an order of state summoned them to march. But if that crusade were
rather a voluntary one, their residence at the camp was still more
dependent on their own inclination: the discipline was suitable to the
formation of the corps. The continentalists, on the contrary, belonged
to the thirteen states, of which each one supplied some regiments;
the soldiers were either engaged for the war or for three years, which
improper alternative was occasioned by republican jealousy. These
regular troops had military regulations, a severe discipline, and the
officers of each state vied with each other for promotion. Gates,
placed in an entrenched position, in the centre of woods, on the road
to Albany, and with the North river on his right, had assembled sixteen
thousand men; and this invasion of the enemy, by threatening New
England, had served as an instant summons to the brave militia. They had
already proved their strength at Bennington, where Stark had surrounded
and destroyed a detachment belonging to Burgoyne. The enemy, having
arrived within three miles of Gates, and not being able to make
a circuit round him without abandoning their cannon and military
accoutrements, attempted twice to force him; but they had scarcely
commenced their march when Arnold fell upon them with his division, and
in those woods, lined with sharpshooters, it was only possible for them
to reach the entrenchments. Arnold had his leg broken at the second
affair; Lincoln, the other major-general, was wounded also. Four
thousand men, who embarked at New York, had, it is true, ascended the
Hudson. Whilst Vaughan was needlessly burning Esopus, Clinton had taken
all the forts that defended the river. They were but little annoyed by
Putnam, who, in the first breaking out of the troubles, had thrown aside
his plough to bear to the army far more zeal than talent. But still that
diversion was too weak; and by a note which a spy who had been taken
swallowed, but which was recovered by an emetic, it was seen that
Clinton was aware of his own weakness. Burgoyne, abandoned by the
savages, regretting his best soldiers, and Frazer, his best general,
reduced to five thousand men, who were in want of provisions, wished
to retreat; but it was then too late: his communications were no longer
open; and it was at Saratoga, some miles in the rear of his army, that
he signed the celebrated convention. A brilliant troop, covered with
gold, filed out with Burgoyne: they encountered Gates and his officers,
all clothed in plain grey cloth. After a frugal repast, the two generals
beheld the conquered army filing out; and, as a member of parliament
said, "_five thousand men crossed the rebel country to take up their
winter quarters near Boston_." Clinton then redescended to New York,
and the militia returned to their domestic hearths. Gates' chief merit
consisted in his skilful choice of a position; Burgoyne's misfortune was
owing to the nature of the country, which was impracticable and almost
a desert. If the enemies of the former criticised the terms of the
convention, M. de Lafayette loudly proclaimed how glorious he thought
it; but he blamed Gates afterwards for rendering himself independent of
his general, and for retaining the troops which he ought to have sent
him. To obtain them, it was necessary to despatch Hamilton, a young man
of great talents, whose counsels had justly acquired much credit.~[23]
The forts of the Delaware had not yet yielded: that of Red-Bank,
defended by four hundred men, was attacked, sword in hand, by sixteen
hundred Hessians. The work having been reduced by Mauduit, a young
Frenchman, the enemy engaged betwixt the old and new entrenchments. They
were driven back with the loss of seven hundred men and Count Donop,
their chief, whose last words were--"_I die the victim of my own
ambition, and the avarice of my sovereign_." That fort was commanded
by an old and respected colonel, Greene, who, three years after, was
massacred by the English to whom he had surrendered, whilst, covering
him with his own body, an old negro perished heroically by his side.
Fort Mifflin, although attacked by land and water, did not defend itself
less valiantly; the _Augusta_, an English ship of the line, had been
already blown up; a frigate also perished; and Colonel Smith did not
even think of surrendering: but the island being attacked from an
unknown passage, the works were assaulted from the rear, and were
obliged to be evacuated. Lord Cornwallis and five thousand men having
fallen upon the Jerseys, it became also necessary to quit Red-Bank which
the Americans blew up before leaving it: General Greene, crossing the
river at Trenton opposed, with a precisely equal force, the detachment
of Cornwallis.
Although M. de Lafayette's wound was not yet sufficiently closed for him
to put on a boot, he accompanied Greene to Mount Holly; and detaching
himself in order to reconnoitre, he found the enemy, November 25th,
at Gloucester, opposite Philadelphia. The booty they had collected was
crossing the river. To assure himself more fully on this point M. de
Lafayette advanced upon the strip of land called Sandy Point, and for
this imprudence he would have paid dearly if those who had the power
of killing him had not depended too much on those who had the power of
taking him prisoner. After having succeeded in somewhat appeasing the
terror of his guides, he found himself, about four o'clock, two miles
from the English camp, before a post of four hundred Hessians with their
cannon. Having only three hundred and fifty men, most of them militia,
he suddenly attacked the enemy, who gave way before him. Lord Cornwallis
came up with his grenadiers; but, supposing himself to be engaged with
the corps of General Greene, he allowed himself to be driven back to
the neighbourhood of Gloucester, with a loss of about sixty men. Greene
arrived in the night, but would not attack the enemy. Lord Cornwallis
passed over the river, and the American detachment rejoined the army
at its station at Whitemarsh, twelve miles from Philadelphia. It had
occupied, since the last month, some excellent heights; the general's
accurate glance had discerned the situation of the encampment through an
almost impenetrable wood.
The slight success of Gloucester gratified the army, and especially the
militia. The congress resolved, that "it would be extremely agreeable to
them to see the Marquis de Lafayette at the head of a division."~[24] He
quitted, therefore, his situation of volunteer, and succeeded Stephen
in the command of the Virginians. The junction of Cornwallis having been
the work of some hours, and that of Greene requiring several marches,
it is difficult to imagine why Howe gave him time to arrive, and only
proceeded with his army on the 5th of December to Chesnut Hill, three
miles from Whitemarsh. After having felt his way with the right wing,
of which he stood in some awe, he threatened to attack the extreme left;
and that wing, following his own movements, stationed itself on the
declivity of the heights. Some shots were exchanged betwixt the English
light horsemen and the American riflemen, very skilful carabineers, who
inhabit the frontiers of the savage tribes. Not being able to attack
that position, and not wishing to make the circuit of it, Howe
returned, on the fourth day, to Philadelphia. In spite of the northern
reinforcements, the Americans were reduced to nine thousand, and the
advanced season diminished their numbers rapidly. The protection of the
country had cost the army dear. The 15th of December they marched toward
Swedes' Ford, where Lord Cornwallis was accidentally foraging on the
other side of the river. M. de Lafayette, being upon duty, was examining
a position, when his escort and the enemy fired upon each other.
The uncertainty being mutual, Lord Cornwallis and General Washington
suspended their march; the former having retired during the night, the
army crossed over the Schuylkill, and entrenched itself in the station
of Valley-Forge, twenty-two miles from Philadelphia. Having skillfully
erected there, in a few days, a city of wooden huts the army established
itself in its melancholy winter quarters. A small corps was detached to
Wilmington, and fortified itself, under the command of Brigadier-General
Smallwood.
Notwithstanding the success in the north, the situation of the Americans
had never been more critical than at the present moment. A paper money,
without out any certain foundation, and unmixed with any specie, was
both counterfeited by the enemy and discredited by their partizans. They
feared to establish taxes, and had still less the power of levying
them. The people, who had risen against the taxation of England, were
astonished at paying still heavier taxes now; and the government was
without any power to enforce them. On the other side, New York and
Philadelphia were overstocked with gold and various merchandizes; the
threatened penalty of death could not stop a communication that was
but too easy. To refuse the payment of taxes, to depreciate the paper
currency, and feed the enemy, was a certain method of attaining wealth;
privations and misery were only experienced by good citizens. Each
proclamation of the English was supported by their seductions, their
riches, and the intrigues of the Tories. Whilst a numerous garrison
lived sumptuously at New York, some hundreds of men, ill-clothed
and ill-fed, wandered upon the shores of the Hudson. The army of
Philadelphia, freshly recruited from Europe, abundantly supplied with
everything they could require, consisted of eighteen thousand men: that
of Valley-Forge was successively reduced to five thousand men; and two
marches on the fine Lancaster road, (on which road also was a chain
of magazines,) by establishing the English in the rear of their right
flank, would have rendered their position untenable; from which,
however, they had no means of retiring. The unfortunate soldiers were
in want of everything; they had no coats, hats, shirts, or shoes; their
feet and legs froze till they became black, and it was often necessary
to amputate them. From want of money, they could neither obtain
provisions nor any means of transport; the colonels were often reduced
to two rations, and sometimes even to one. The army frequently remained
whole days without provisions, and the patient endurance of both
soldiers and officers was a miracle which each moment served to renew.
But the sight of their misery prevented new engagements; it was almost
impossible to levy recruits; it was easy to desert into the interior of
the country. The sacred liberty was not extinguished, it is true, and
the majority of the citizens detested British tyranny; but the triumph
of the north, and the tranquillity of the south, had lulled to sleep
two-thirds of the continent. The remaining part was harassed by two
armies; and, throughout this revolution, the great difficulty was, that,
in order to conceal misfortunes from the enemy, it was necessary
to conceal them from the nation also; that by awakening the one,
information was likewise given to the other; and that fatal blows would
have been struck upon the weakest points before democratic tardiness
could have been roused to support them. It was from this cause that,
during the whole war, the real force of the army was always kept a
profound secret; even congress was not apprised of it, and the generals
were often themselves deceived. General Washington never placed
unlimited confidence in any person, except in M. de Lafayette; because
for him alone, perhaps, confidence sprung from warm affection. As the
situation grew more critical, discipline became more necessary. In
the course of his nocturnal rounds, in the midst of heavy snows, de
Lafayette was obliged to break some negligent officers. He adopted in
every respect the American dress, habits, and food. He wished to be more
simple, frugal, and austere than the Americans themselves. Brought up in
the lap of luxury, he suddenly changed his whole manner of living, and
his constitution bent itself to privation as well as to fatigue. He
always took the liberty of freely writing his ideas to congress; or, in
imitation of the prudence of the general, he gave his opinion to some
members of a corps or state assembly, that, being adopted by them, it
might be brought forward in the deliberations of congress.
In addition to the difficulties which lasted during the whole of the
war, the winter of Valley-Forge recals others still more painful.
At Yorktown, behind the Susquehannah, congress was divided into two
factions, which, in spite of their distinction of south and east, did
not the less occasion a separation between members of the same state.
The deputies substituted their private intrigues for the wishes of the
nation. Several impartial men had retired; several states had but one
representative, and in some cases not even one. Party spirit was so
strong, that three years afterwards congress still felt the effects of
it. Any great event, however, would awaken their patriotism; and when
Burgoyne declared that his treaty had been broken, means were found
to stop the departure of his troops, which everything, even the few
provisions for the transports, had foolishly betrayed. But all these
divisions failed to produce the greatest of calamities--the loss of the
only man capable of conducting the revolution.
Gates was at Yorktown, where he inspired respect by his manners,
promises, and European acquirements. Amongst the deputies who united
themselves to him, may be numbered the Lees, Virginians, enemies of
Washington, and the two Adams. Mifflin, quarter-master-general, aided
him with his talents and brilliant eloquence. They required a name to
bring forward in the plot, and they selected Conway, who fancied himself
the chief of a party. To praise Gates, with a certain portion of the
continent and the troops, was a pretext for speaking of themselves.
The people attach themselves to prosperous generals, and the
commander-in-chief had been unsuccessful. His own character inspired
respect and affection; but Greene, Hamilton, Knox, his best friends,
were sadly defamed. The Tories fomented these dissensions. The
presidency of the war-office, which had been created for Gates,
restricted the power of the general. This was not the only
inconvenience; a committee from congress arrived at the camp, and the
attack of Philadelphia was daringly proposed. The most shrewd people did
not believe that Gates was the real object of this intrigue. Though a
good officer he had not the power to assert himself. He would have given
place to the famous General Lee, then a prisoner of the English, whose
first care would have been to have made over to them his friends and all
America.
Attached to the general, and still more so to the cause, M. de Lafayette
did not hesitate for a moment; and, in spite of the caresses of one
party, he remained faithful to the other, whose ruin seemed then
impending. He saw and corresponded frequently with the general, and
often discused with him his own private situation, and the effect that
various meliorations in the army might produce. Having sent for his wife
to the camp, the general preserved in his deportment the noble composure
which belongs to a strong and virtuous mind. "I have not sought for this
place," said he to M. de Lafayette; "if I am displeasing to the nation I
will retire; but until then I will oppose all intrigues."
(1778.) The 22nd of January, congress resolved that Canada should be
entered, and the choice fell upon M. de Lafayette. The Generals Conway
and Stark were placed under him. Hoping to intoxicate and govern
so young a commander, the war-office, without consulting the
commander-in-chief, wrote to him to go and await his further
instructions at Albany.~[25] But after having won over by his arguments
the committee which congress had sent to the camp, M. de Lafayette
hastened to Yorktown, and declared there "that he required
circumstantial orders, a statement of the means to be employed, the
certainty of not deceiving the Canadians, an augmentation of generals,
and rank for several Frenchmen, fully impressed," he added, "with the
various duties and advantages they derived from their name; but the
first condition he demanded was, not to be made, like Gates, independent
of General Washington." At Gates' own house he braved the whole party,
and threw them into confusion by making them drink the health of their
general.~[26] In congress he was supported by President Laurens, and
he obtained all that he demanded. His instructions from the war-office
promised that 2500 men should be assembled at Albany, and a large corps
of militia at Coos; that he should have two millions in paper money,
some hard specie, and, all means supplied for crossing lake Champlain
upon the ice, whence, after having burnt the English flotilla, he was to
proceed to Montreal, and act there as circumstances might require.
Repassing then, not without some danger, the Susquehannah, which was
filled with floating masses of ice, M. de Lafayette set out for
Albany, and, in spite of the obstacles offered by ice and snow, rapidly
traversed an extent of four hundred miles. Whilst travelling thus on
horseback, he became thoroughly acquainted with the simplicity and
purity of the inhabitants, their patriarchal mode of life, and their
republican ideas. Devoted to their household cares, the women are
happy, and afford to their husbands the calmest and truest felicity. The
unmarried women alone is love spoken of, and their modesty enhances the
charm of their innocent coquetry. In the chance marriages which take
place in Paris, the fidelity of the wife is often repugnant to the
voice of nature and of reason, one might almost say to the principles
of justice. In America, a girl marries her lover, and it would be like
having two lovers at the same time if she were to break that valid
agreement; because both parties know equally how and in what manner they
are bound to each other. In the bosom of their own families, the men
occupy themselves with their private affairs, or assemble together to
regulate those of the state. They talk politics over their glasses,
and become animated by patriotism rather than strong liquor. Whilst the
children shed tears at the name of Tory, the old men sent up prayers to
Heaven that they might be permitted to see the end of that war. During
his repeated and rapid journeys, M. de Lafayette, mixing with all
classes of society, was not wholly useless to the good cause, to the
interest of the French, and to the party of General Washington.
M. de Lafayette, on arriving at Albany, experienced some
disappointments. Instead of 2500 men, there were not 1200. Stark's
militia had not even received a summons. Clothes, provisions, magazines,
sledges, all were insufficient for that glacial expedition. By making
better preparations and appointing the general earlier, success would
probably have been secured. Several Canadians began to make a movement,
and from that moment they testified great interest in M. de Lafayette;
but two months were requisite to collect all that was necessary, and
towards the middle of March the lakes begin to thaw. M. de Lafayette,
general, at twenty years of age, of a small army, charged with an
important and very difficult operation, authorized by the orders of
congress, animated by the expectations now felt in America, and which,
he knew, would ere long be felt likewise in Europe, had many motives
for becoming adventurous; but, on the other hand, his resources were
slender, the time allowed him was short, the enemy was in a good
position, and Lieutenant-General Carleton was preparing for him another
Saratoga. Forced to take a decisive step immediately, he wrote a calm
letter to congress, and with a heavy sigh abandoned the enterprise. At
the same period, congress, becoming a little less confident, despatched
to him some wavering counsels, which, arriving too late, only served to
compromise the general and justify the government. But the prudence of
M. de Lafayette was at length rewarded by the approbation of congress
and of the nation; and, until the opening of the campaign, he continued
to command that department.~[27] He found there that intrepid Arnold,
who was still detained by his wound, and who since ...... ; he became
intimately acquainted with Schuyler, the predecessor of Gates, in
disgrace as well as Saint-Clair, but who continued useful to the cause
from the superiority of his talents, his importance in that part of the
country, and the confidence he enjoyed in New York, of which state he
was a citizen.
If Canada did not herself send an offensive army, all the savages
were paid and protected by the English party: the Hurons and Iroquois
committed their devastations on that whole frontier. Some baubles or a
barrel of rum were sufficient to make them seize the tomahawk; they then
rushed upon villages, burnt houses, destroyed harvests, massacred all,
without regard to age or sex, and received on their return the price of
each bloody scalp they could exhibit. A young American girl, whom her
lover, an English, was expecting, that their marriage might take place,
was killed by the very savages he had sent to escort her. Two Americans
were actually eaten up by the Senecas, and a colonel of the English army
was a guest at that horrible repast. "It is thus," was often said to the
savages, whilst drinking with them at the councils, "it is thus we must
drink the blood of rebels." M. de Lafayette, conscious that he could not
protect such an immense extent of frontier, prepared quarters in
every direction, and announced the speedy arrival of troops in all the
counties; and this stratagem stopped the depredations of the savages,
who do not usually attack those places in which they expect to find much
resistance. But he kept the Albany troops close together, satisfied them
a little as to payment, provisioned the forts, which had been hitherto
neglected, and arrested a plot of which any particulars have never been
precisely known. He found in George Clinton, governor of the state of
New York, a firm and an enlightened co-operator.
Soon after, Schuyler and Duane, who were charged with the management of
the affairs of the savages, appointed a general assembly at Johnson's
Town, upon the Mohawk river. Recalling to them their former attachment
to the French, M. de Lafayette repaired thither in a sledge to shew
himself in person to those nations whom the English had endeavoured to
prejudice against him. Five hundred men, women, and children, covered
with various coloured paints and feathers, with their ears cut open,
their noses ornamented with rings, and their half-naked bodies marked
with different figures, were present at the councils. Their old men,
whilst smoking, talked politics extremely well. Their object seemed to
be to promote a balance of power; if the intoxication of rum, as that
of ambition in Europe, had not often turned them aside from it. M.
de Lafayette, adopted by them, received the name of _Kayewla_, which
belonged formerly to one of their warriors; and under this name he is
well known to all the savage tribes. Some louis which he distributed
under the form of medals, and some stuffs from the state of New York,
produced but little effect when compared to the presents they had
received from England. A treaty was entered into, which some of them
rigidly observed; and the course of the evil was at least arrested
for the present. The Oneidas and Tuscaroras, the only real friends the
Americans possessed, requested to have a fort; and M. de Lafayette left
them M. de Gouvion, a French officer, whose talents and virtues rendered
him of great value to the cause. Whenever savages were required at the
army, whenever there was any dealings with these tribes, recourse was
always had to the credit of M. de Lafayette, whose _necklaces_ and
_words_ were equally respected.
On his return, he found that the form of a new oath had been
established, which each civil and military officer was to take,
according to his own religious belief. _An acknowledgment of the
independence, liberty, and sovereignty of the United States; an eternal
renunciation of George III., his successors, and heirs, and every King
of England; a promise to defend the said states against the said George
III_.; this was the purport of the oath administered by him to the whole
northern department.~[28] At the approach of spring, M. de Lafayette was
recalled to the south. The affairs of General Washington were already in
a more flourishing condition. Several of the states recommended him
to their deputies; and from only suspecting one of them of being
unfavourable to him, the New York assembly wished to recal one of their
delegates. Congress had been a little recruited, and they were thinking
of recruiting the army. At Valley-Forge, M. de Lafayette found some
difficulty not from the substance, but merely from the form of the oath;
but that difficulty was easily obviated. A short time after, Simeon
Deane arrived with the treaty of commerce between France and the United
States.
By quitting France in so public a manner, M. de Lafayette had served
the cause of the revolution. One portion of society was anxious for his
success and the attention of the other had become, to say the least,
somewhat occupied in the struggle. If a spirit of emulation made
those connected with the court desirous of war, the rest of the nation
supported the young rebel, and followed with interest all his movements;
and it is well known that the rupture that ensued was truly a national
one. Some circumstances relating to his departure having displeased the
court of London, M. de Lafayette omitted nothing that could draw more
closely together the nations whose union he so ardently desired. The
incredible prejudices of the Americans had been, augmented by the
conduct of the first Frenchmen who had joined them. These men gradually
disappeared, and all those who remained were remarkable for talents, or
at least for probity. They became the friends of M. de Lafayette,
who sincerely sought out all the national prejudices of the Americans
against his countrymen for the purpose of overcoming them. Love and
respect for the name of Frenchman animated his letters and speeches, and
he wished the affection that was granted to him individually to become
completely national. On the other side, when writing to Europe, he
denied the reports made by discontented adventurers, by good officers
who were piqued at not having been employed, and by those men who,
serving themselves in the army, wished to be witty or amusing by the
political contrasts they described in their letters. But, without giving
a circumstantial account of what private influence achieved, it is
certain that enthusiasm for the cause, and esteem for its defenders,
had electrified all France, and that the affair of Saratoga decided the
ministerial commotion. Bills of conciliation passed in the English house
of parliament, and five commissioners were sent to offer far more than
have been demanded until then. No longer waiting to see _how things
would turn out_, M. de Maurepas yielded to the public wish, and what his
luminous mind had projected, the more unchanging disposition of M. de
Vergennes put in execution. A treaty was generously entered into with
Franklin, Deane, and Arthur Lee, and that treaty was announced with more
confidence than had been for some time displayed. But the war was not
sufficiently foreseen, or at least sufficient preparations were not
made. The most singular fact is, that at the very period when the firm
resistance of the court of France had guided the conduct of two courts,
America had fallen herself into such a state of weakness, that she was
on the very brink of ruin. The 2nd of May, the army made a bonfire, and
M. de Lafayette, ornamented with a white scarf, proceeded to the spot,
accompanied by all the French. Since the arrival of the conciliatory
bills, he had never ceased writing against the commission, and against
every commissioner. The advances of these men were ill-received by
congress; and, foreseeing a French co-operation, the enemy began to
think of quitting Philadelphia.
General Washington sent two thousand chosen men across the Schuylkill
to collect intelligence. M. de Lafayette, their commander, repaired, the
18th of May, to Barren Hill, eleven miles from the two armies. On a good
elevation, his right resting upon some rocks and the river, on his left
some excellent stone houses and a small wood, his front sustained by
five pieces of cannon, and with roads in his rear, such was the position
of M. de Lafayette. An hundred dragoons whom he was expecting did not
arrive in sufficient time; but he stationed six hundred militia on his
left at Whitemarsh, and their general, Porter, made himself answerable
for those roads. On the evening of the 19th, Howe, who had just been
recalled, and Clinton, who replaced him, sent out a detachment of seven
thousand men, with fourteen pieces of cannon, under General Grant.
Passing behind the inundation, that corps proceeded on the road to
Francfort, and, by a circuitous movement, fell into that of Whitemarsh,
from which the militia had just thought proper to retire. On the morning
of the 20th, M. de Lafayette was conversing with a young lady, who, on
pretence of seeing her relations, to oblige him had consented to go
to Philadelphia, when he was informed that the red dragoons were at
Whitemarsh. It was the uniform of those he was expecting; he had placed
Porter there; he had promised to pay him a visit, and intended that very
evening to carry thither his detachment. But, for greater security, he
examined carefully into the truth of the report; and, ascertaining that
a column was marching on the left, he changed his front, and covered
it with the houses, the wood, and a small churchyard. Scarcely was that
movement ended, when he found himself cut off by Grant on the Swedes'
Ford road in his rear. It was in the presence of the troops that he
first heard the cry that he was surrounded, and he was forced to smile
at the unpleasant intelligence. Several officers, whom he had despatched
to Valley-Forge, declared that they had been unable to find a passage.
Every moment was precious, and M. de Lafayette proceeded on the road of
Matson Ford, to which the enemy was nearer than himself. General
Poor commanded his advance guard; and to him he sent Gimat, his own
confidential aide-de-camp. He placed himself as the rear guard,
and marched on with rapidity, but without precipitation. Grant had
possession of the heights, and M. de Lafayette's road lay immediately
beneath them. His apparent composure deceived his adversary; and
perceiving that he was reconnoitring him, he presented to him, from
among the trees and behind curtains, false heads of columns. The time
that Grant occupied in reconnoitring, and discovering an imaginary
ambuscade, M. de Lafayette employed in regaining the foreground; at
length he passed by Grant's column. He managed to impose likewise on
Grey's column, which followed him; and when the third division, under
Howe and Clinton, reached Barren Hill, the Americans had already passed
over Matson Ford. Forming themselves on the opposite shore, they awaited
the enemy, who dared not attack them. Advancing on the ground, Howe was
astonished at finding only one red line: the generals quarrelled; and
although the commander in chief had invited some ladies to sup with M.
de Lafayette, although the admiral, (Howe's brother,) knowing him to be
surrounded, had prepared a frigate for him, the whole army, (of which
half had made a march of forty miles,) returned, much fatigued, without
having taken a single man. It was then that fifty savages, friends of
the Americans, encountered fifty English dragoons; and the cries of war
on one side, and the appearance of the cavalry on the other, surprised
the parties so much that they both fled, with equal speed. The alarm had
been likewise great at Valley Forge; and the report of three pieces of
cannon that were there fired appeared an additional mystery to Grant.
The aim of the general being attained, the detachment returned to its
quarters, and M. de Lafayette was well received by the general and
army.~[29]
An exchange of prisoners had long been talked of, and the cruelty of the
English rendered this measure more necessary. Cooped up in a vessel
at New York, and breathing a most noxious atmosphere, the American
prisoners suffered all that gross insolence could add to famine,
dirt, disease, and complete neglect. Their food was, to say the least,
unwholesome. The officers, often confounded with their soldiers,
appealed to former capitulations and to the right of nations; but they
were only answered by fresh outrages. When one victim sunk beneath such
treatment, "Tis well," was said to the survivors; "there is one
rebel less." Acts of retaliation had been but rarely practised by the
Americans; and the English, like other tyrants, mistook their mildness
and generosity for timidity. Five hundred Americans, in a half-dying
state, had been carried to the sea-shore, where the greatest number of
them soon expired, and the general very properly refused to reckon them
in exchange for his own prisoners of war. Another obstacle to the
cartel was the capture of Lee, who had been taken prisoner in 1776; the
congress insisted on his liberation, and, after much debating on both
sides, he was at length exchanged for General Prescot. Lee, who had been
formerly a colonel in the English service, a general in Poland, and a
fellow-soldier of the Russians and Portuguese, was well acquainted with
all countries, all services, and several languages. His features were
plain, his turn of mind caustic, his feelings ambitious and avaricious,
his temper uncomplying, and his whole appearance singular and
unprepossessing. A temporary fit of generosity had induced him to quit
the English service, and the Americans, at that period, listened to
him as to an oracle. In his heart he detested the general, and felt
a sincere affection for himself alone; but, in 1776, his advice had
undoubtedly saved both the general and the army. He made many advances
to M. de Lafayette, but the one was a violent Englishman, and the other
an enthusiastic Frenchman, and their intimacy was often interrupted
by their differences of opinion. Gates, whose great projects had been
frustrated, was at that time commanding a corps at White Plains, upon
the left side of the Hudson, opposite to the island of New York. Conway
had retired from service, and the place of inspector, which had been
created for him, was given to Steuben, an old Prussian, with moderate
talents, but methodical habits, who organized the army and perfected
their tactics. The congress received at that time some conciliatory
epistles, and the sentiments their answers breathed, like all the other
deliberations of that assembly, were nobly felt, and nobly expressed.
Lord Carlisle was president of the commission, and Lord Howe, Sir Henry
Clinton, Mr. Eden, and Governor Johnstone were its members. The last
named person wrote to some friends, who published his letters.
On the 17th of June, Philadelphia was evacuated. The invalids,
magazines, and heavy ammunition of the British were embarked with
the general; the commissioners of conciliation alone remained behind.
Passing over to Gloucester, the army marched in two columns, each
consisting of seven thousand men, commanded by Clinton and Knyphausen,
towards New York. The army of the United States, which was of nearly
equal force, directed itself from Valley Forge to Coryell's Ferry, and
from thence to King's Town, within a march of the enemy; it was thus
left at the option of the Americans, either to follow on their track, or
to repair to White Plains. In a council held on this subject, Lee very
eloquently endeavoured to prove that it was necessary to erect a bridge
of gold for the enemy; that while on the very point of forming an
alliance with them, every thing ought not to be placed at hazard; that
the English army had never been so excellent and so well disciplined;
he declared himself to be for White Plains: his speech influenced the
opinion of Lord Stirling and of the brigadiers-general. M. de Lafayette,
placed on the other side, spoke late, and asserted that it would be
disgraceful for the chiefs, and humiliating for the troops, to allow
the enemy to traverse the Jerseys tranquilly; that, without running, any
improper risk, the rear guard might be attacked; that it was necessary
to follow the English, manoeuvre with prudence, take advantage of
a temporary separation, and, in short, seize the most favourable
opportunities and situations. This advice was approved by many of the
council, and above all by M. du Portail, chief of the engineers, and
a very distinguished officer. The majority were, however, in favour of
Lee; but M. de Lafayette spoke again to the general on this subject in
the evening, and was seconded by Hamilton, and by Greene, who had been
lately named quarter-master in place of Mifflin. Several of the general
officers changed their opinion; and the troops having already begun
their march, they were halted, in order to form a detachment. When
united, there were 3,000 continentalists and 1,200 militia; the command
fell to the share of Lee, but, by the express desire of the general,
M. de Lafayette succeeded in obtaining it. Everything was going on
extremely well, when Lee changed his mind, and chose to command the
troops himself; having again yielded this point, he re-changed once
more; and as the general wished him to adhere to his first decision--"It
is my fortune and honour," said Lee, to M. de Lafayette, "that I place
in your hands; you are too generous to cause the loss of both!" This
tone succeeded better, and M. de Lafayette promised to ask for him
the next day. The enemy, unfortunately, continued their march; M. de
Lafayette was delayed by want of provisions; and it was not until the
26th, at a quarter to twelve at night, that he could ask for Lee, who
was sent with a detachment of one thousand men to Englishtown, on the
left side of the enemy. The first corps had advanced upon the right; and
M. de Lafayette, by Lee's especial order, joined him at midday, within
reach of the enemy from whom he fortunately succeeded in concealing this
movement. The two columns of the English army had united together at
Monmouth Court-house, from whence they departed on the morning of the
28th. Whilst following them, the Americans marched rapidly through the
woods of Freehold; and at eight o'clock the enemy's rear-guard was still
in the vicinity of the court-house. If Lee had continued the direction
he was then taking, he would have placed himself in an excellent
position, especially as the American army was advancing on the road to
Freehold; but the head of his cohort quitted the wood, into which it
was again forced to retreat by the enemy's cannon. Lee then addressing
himself to M. de Lafayette, told him to cross the plain, and attack the
left flank of the enemy; and whilst this manoeuvre, which exposed them
to the fire of the English artillery, was executing, he sent him an
order to fall back into the village in which he had placed the rest of
the troops. From thence he drew back still farther, and, changing
his attack to a retreat, he exposed himself to be driven back by Lord
Cornwallis, and subsequently by the whole English army, to whom good
space of time had been allowed to form themselves in proper order.
At the first retrograde movement, M. de Lafayette sent information to
the general of what was passing, who, arriving speedily on the spot,
found the troops retreating in confusion. "You know," said Lee, "that
all this was against my advice." The general, sending Lee to the
rear,~[30] himself formed seven or eight hundred men, and stationed
them, with some cannon, upon a chosen spot, and M. de Lafayette
undertook to retard the enemy's march. The English dragoons made their
first charge upon a small morass which sheltered him: the infantry
marched round to attack him on the other side, but he had sufficient
time to retire; and the army had by this time placed itself upon a
height, where he took the command of the second line. A cannonade was
kept up on both sides during the whole day, and two attacks of the enemy
were repulsed. A battery, placed on their left, obliged them to change
their position, and, when they presented their flank, the general
attacked them and forced them to retreat, until darkness interrupted all
operations. The American troops continued to gain ground, and Clinton
retired during the night, leaving behind him more than three hundred
dead and many wounded. The heat was so intense that the soldiers fell
dead without having received a single wound, and the fire of battle soon
became untenable. During this affair which ended so well, although begun
so ill, General Washington appeared to arrest fortune by his glance,
and his presence of mind, valour, and decision of character, were
never displayed to greater advantage than at that moment.~[31] Wayne
distinguished himself; Greene and the brave Stirling led forward the
first line in the ablest manner. From four o'clock in the morning until
night M. de Lafayette was momentarily obliged to change his occupations.
The general and he passed the night lying on the same mantle, talking
over the conduct of Lee, who wrote the next morning a very improper
letter, and was placed under arrest. He was afterwards suspended by a
council of war, quitted the service, and was not regretted by the army.
Clinton having retreated towards the hollows of Shrewsbury, the general
contented himself with the success already gained, and marched towards
White Plains; the second line, under M. de Lafayette forming the right
column. The 4th of July, being the anniversary of the declaration of
independence, was celebrated at Brunswick; and a few days later the army
learnt that the Count d'Estaing was before New York.~[32]
Twelve French vessels, which sailed from Toulon, had been three months
in reaching the Delaware: they arrived three days after the departure of
the English fleet, and, following it to New York, M. d'Estaing anchored
at Sandy-hook, outside the bar. He offered immense sums to be conveyed
across that bar, but the pilots declared that the large vessels drew too
much water, and the French finally agreed to attack Rhode Island, which
the enemy then occupied with a force of 5000 men, who had entrenched
themselves; whilst the state militia, under the command of Sullivan,
were stationed at Providence. M. Girard, a French minister, arrived on
board that squadron; he had been long most anxiously expected by the
Americans, and M. de Lafayette called his delay a proof of confidence.
The last mark of attention with which the court honoured M. de
Lafayette, had been an order to arrest him in the West Indies; he was,
in truth, out of favour in that quarter, and their displeasure had
increased on receiving his letters, which were dictated less by the
prudence of a philosopher than by the enthusiasm of a young lover of
liberty: but although no letters were addressed to him, M. d'Estaing
was not less kind and attentive in his conduct; and 2000 continentalists
having been despatched from White-Plains to Providence, M. de Lafayette,
who had exerted himself to hasten their departure, conducted them
rapidly along the sound, across a smiling country, covered with
villages, in which the evident equality of the population distinctly
proved the democracy of the government. From the apparent prosperity
of each colony, it was easy to judge of the degree of freedom which its
constitution might enjoy.
By forcing the passage between Rhode Island and Connecticut, M.
d'Estaing might easily have carried off as prisoners 1500 Hessians
who were stationed on the latter island; but he yielded to Sullivan's
entreaties, and waited until that general should be in readiness: but
although the troops of M. de Lafayette had traversed 240 miles, he found
on his arrival that no preparations were yet made. He repaired to
the squadron, and was received with the greatest possible attention,
especially by the general; and, as M. de Suffren was placed in front, he
carried back to him an order from M. d'Estaing to attack three frigates,
which, however, were burnt by their own crews. The American army
repaired, on the 8th of August, to Howland's Ferry, during the time that
the squadron was forcing its way between the two islands. General Greene
having joined the army, M. de Lafayette yielded to him the command of
half his corps; each then possessed a wing, of 1000 continentalists and
5000 militia. M. de Lafayette's corps was to receive the addition of
the two battalions of Foix and Hainaut, with some marines. The English,
fearing to be intercepted evacuated the forts on the right of the island
during the night of the 8th, and Sullivan landed with his troops the
next day. M. de Lafayette was expecting the French that afternoon, and
the boats were already under way, when a squadron appeared in sight on
the south of the island, at M. d'Estaing's former anchorage. Lord Howe,
brave even to audacity, having watched the movements of the French
admiral and his fleet, collected a greater number of ships, of which
the sizes were however too unequal; his position, and the southern
wind, would enable him, he thought, to throw succours into Newport where
General Pigot had concentrated his force; but the wind changed during
the night, and the next day M. d'Estaing, within sight of both armies
passed gallantly through the fire of the two batteries whilst the enemy,
cutting their cables, fled, under heavy press of sail. After a chase of
eight hours the two squadrons at length met, and Lord Howe would have
paid dearly for his temerity, had not a violent storm arisen, which
dispersed the ships. By a singular chance, several of Byron's vessels
came up at the same time on their return from Portsmouth, having been
separated at the Azores by a violent gale of wind. The _Languedoc_,
the admiral's ship, deprived of its masts and rudder, and driven by
the tempest to a distance from the other vessels, was attacked by the
_Isis_, of fifty guns, and owed its safety only to the courage and
firmness of M. d'Estaing. At length he succeeded in rallying his
squadron, and, faithful to his engagements, reappeared before Rhode
Island; but as he no longer possessed the superiority of force, he
announced his intention of repairing to Boston, where the _Cesar_ had
taken shelter after a combat. When the storm, which lasted three days,
subsided, the American army drew near Newport. This town was defended
by two lines of redoubts and batteries, surrounded by a wooden palisade,
the two concentrated fronts of which rested on the sea-shore, and were
supported by a ravine that it was necessary to cross. The trench was
opened, the heavy batteries established, and General Greene and M.
de Lafayette were deputed to go on board the French admiral ship,
to endeavour to obtain time, and propose either to make an immediate
attack, or to station vessels in the Providence river. If M. de
Lafayette had felt consternation upon hearing of the dispersion of the
fleet, the conduct of the sailors during the combat, which he learnt
with tears in his eyes, inspired him with the deepest grief. In the
council, where the question was agitated, M. de Brugnon (although five
minutes before he had maintained the contrary) gave his voice in
favour of Boston, and his opinion was unanimously adopted. Before they
separated, the admiral offered his two battalions to M. de Lafayette,
and appeared to feel great pleasure in being thus enabled to secure him
his rank in the French army; but these troops were useful on board, and
were not necessary on the island, and M. de Lafayette would not expose
them to danger for his own private interest. At the departure of the
vessels, there was but one unanimous feeling of regret and indignation.
Their lost time, extinguished hopes, and embarrassed situation, all
served to increase the irritation of the militia, and their discontent
became contagious. The people of Boston already spoke of refusing the
fleet admission into their port; the generals drew up a protestation,
which M. de Lafayette refused to sign. Carried away by an impulse of
passion, Sullivan inserted in an order "that our allies have abandoned
us." His ill humour was encouraged by Hancock, a member of congress,
formerly its president, and who then commanded the militia of
Massachusets stationed on the island. To him M. de Lafayette first
declared his intentions, and then, calling upon Sullivan, he insisted
upon the words used in the order of the morning being retracted in that
of the evening. Some hours after, the general returned his visit, and,
drawing him aside, a very warm altercation took place; but although
totally indifferent to the peril of a duel, Sullivan was neither
indifferent to the loss of the intimacy of M. de Lafayette, nor to the
influence this young Frenchman possessed at head-quarters, and over
congress and the nation; and in the numerous letters which M. de
Lafayette wrote on this occasion, he made ample use of his influence
over those three important powers.
Dr. Cooper, a presbyterian minister, was extremely useful at Boston;
and Hancock himself ended by repairing thither to receive the squadron.
Rather than yield to the public torrent, M. de Lafayette had risked his
own popularity; and in the fear of being guided by private interest,
he had gone to the extreme in the opposite line of conduct. He lived in
complete retirement, in his own military quarter, and was never seen but
at the trench or the council, in which latter place he would not allow
the slightest observation to be made against the French squadron. As
hopes were still entertained of obtaining assistance from the latter, it
was resolved to retreat to the north of the island; and M. de Lafayette
was sent on an embassy to M. d'Estaing. After having travelled all
night, he arrived at the moment when the general and his officers were
entering Boston. A grand repast, given by the town, was followed by a
conference between the council, the admiral, and himself, at which M.
d'Estaing, while he clearly demonstrated the insufficiency of his
naval force, offered to march himself with his troops. Every word was
submitted to M. de Lafayette, and the admiral remarked this deference
without appearing hurt by it. That same day, the 29th August, Sullivan
retreated from his post; and although the discontent which the militia
experienced had diminished the number of his troops, he conducted this
movement, and the attack which it occasioned, with great ability.
The next morning, at the same time that M. de Lafayette was informed of
the event, he learnt also that the two armies were in close contact
at the north of the island, and that Clinton had arrived with a
reinforcement. Traversing then eighty miles in less than eight hours,
he repaired to Howland's Ferry, arriving there just as the army was
re-crossing it. A corps of a thousand men had been left on the island,
surrounded with divisions of the enemy: M. de Lafayette undertook the
charge of them, and succeeded in withdrawing them without losing a
single man. When congress returned thanks to him for his conduct during
this retreat, they likewise expressed their gratitude for his journey to
Boston, at the very period when he might so rationally have expected
an engagement.~[33] Sullivan returned to Providence, and left M. de
Lafayette in the command of the posts around the island: the post of
Bristol, in which his principal corps was placed, was exposed to an
attack by water; he announced this to General Washington, to whom,
Sullivan said, he thought the same idea had also occurred. It was
at this place he learnt the affair of Ouessant, which he expected to
celebrate as an important victory; but the welfare of the squadron
recalled him to Boston, where he felt he could be useful to his
countrymen. The general dissatisfaction was soon appeased; and although
M. de Saint Sauveur had been killed accidentally in a tumult, the French
had nevertheless full cause to acknowledge the kindness and moderation
of the Bostonians. During a walk which he took with the Count d'Estaing,
M. de Lafayette pointed out to him the remains of the army of Burgoyne:
two soldiers of militia, stationed at each wing, alone constituted
its guard. Feeling that his presence was no longer necessary to the
squadron, and believing that it was his duty to return to France, M.
de Lafayette set out to rejoin the principal corps of the army at
Philadelphia.
During that time, the commissioners had made many addresses and
proclamations. By endeavouring to gain over one member, Johnstone had
displeased the congress, who refused to treat with him. In a public
letter, signed Carlisle, the French nation was taxed with a _perfidy
too universally acknowledged to require any new proof_. With the
effervescence of youth and patriotism, M. de Lafayette seized this
opportunity of opposing the commission; and the first impulse of M.
d'Estaing was to approve of his conduct. A haughty challenge was sent
from head-quarters to Lord Carlisle: the answer was an ill-explained
refusal; and the impetuosity of M. de Lafayette was attended with a
good result, whilst the prudence of the president was ridiculed in every
public paper.~[34]
Soon afterwards, during M. de Lafayette's residence at Philadelphia, the
commission received its death-blow; whilst he was breakfasting with the
members of congress, the different measures proper to be pursued were
frankly and cheerfully discussed. The correspondence which took place
at that time is generally known; the congress remained ever noble; firm,
and faithful to its allies: secretary Thomson, in his last letter to
Sir Henry Clinton, informs him, that "_the congress does not answer
impertinent letters_." To conceal nothing from the people, all the
proposals were invariably printed; but able writers were employed in
pointing out the errors they contained. In that happy country, where
each man understood and attended to public affairs, the newspapers
became powerful instruments to aid the revolution. The same spirit was
also breathed from the pulpit, for the Bible in many places favours
republicanism. M. de Lafayette, having once reproached an Anglican
minister with speaking only of heaven, went to hear him preach the
following Sunday, and the words, _the execrable house of Hanover_,
proved the docility of the minister.
M. de Lafayette addressed a polite letter to the French minister, and
wrote also to the congress, that, "whilst he believed himself free, he
had supported the cause under the American banner; that his country was
now at war, and that his services were first due to her; that he hoped
to return; and that he should always retain his zealous interest for the
United States." The congress not only granted him an unlimited leave of
absence, but added to it the most flattering expressions of gratitude.
It was resolved that a sword, covered with emblems, should be presented
to him, in the name of the United States, by their minister in France;
they wrote to the king; and the _Alliance_, of thirty-six guns, their
finest ship, was chosen to carry him back to Europe. M. de Lafayette
would neither receive from them anything farther, nor allow them to
ask any favour for him at the court of France. But the congress, when
proposing a co-operation in Canada, expressed its wish of seeing the
arrangement of the affair confided to him: this project was afterwards
deferred from the general's not entertaining hopes Of its ultimate
success. But although old prejudices were much softened,--although
the conduct of the admiral and the squadron had excited universal
approbation,--the congress, the general, and, in short, every one,
told M. de Lafayette that, in the whole circuit of the thirteen states,
vessels only were required, and that the appearance of a French corps
would alarm the nation. As M. de Lafayette was obliged to embark at
Boston, he set out again on this journey of four hundred miles; he
hoped, also, that he should be able to take leave of M. d'Estaing, who
had offered to accompany him to the islands; and whose friendship and
misfortunes affected him as deeply as his active genius and patriotic
courage excited his admiration. Heated by fatiguing journeys and over
exertion, and still more by the grief he had experienced at Rhode
Island; and having afterwards laboured hard, drank freely, and passed
several sleepless nights at Philadelphia, M. de Lafayette proceeded on
horseback, in a high state of fever, and during a pelting autumnal rain.
Fetes were given in compliment to him throughout his journey, and
he endeavoured to strengthen himself with wine, tea, and rum: but at
Fishkill, eight miles from head-quarters, he was obliged to yield to
the violence of an inflammatory fever. He was soon reduced to the last
extremity, and the report of his approaching death distressed the army,
by whom he was called _the soldier's friend_, and the whole nation were
unanimous in expressing their good wishes and regrets for _the marquis_,
the name by which he was exclusively designated. From the first moment,
Cockran, director of the hospitals, left all his other occupations to
attend to him alone. General Washington came every day to inquire after
his friend; but, fearing to agitate him, he only conversed with the
physician, and returned home with tearful eyes, and a heart oppressed
with grief.~[35] Suffering acutely from a raging fever and violent
head-ache, M. de Lafayette felt convinced that he was dying, but did
not lose for a moment the clearness of his understanding: having taken
measures to be apprised of the approach of death, he regretted that he
could not hope again to see his country and the dearest objects of his
affection. Far from foreseeing the happy fate that awaited him, he would
willingly have exchanged his future chance of life, in spite of his one
and twenty years, for the certainty of living but for three months,
on the condition of again seeing his friends, and witnessing the happy
termination of the American war. But to the assistance of medical art,
and the assiduous care of Dr. Cockran, nature added the alarming though
salutary remedy of an hemorrhage. At the expiration of three months, M.
de Lafayette's life was no longer in danger: he was at length allowed
to see the general, and think of public affairs. By decyphering a
letter from M. d'Estaing, he learnt that, in spite of twenty-one English
vessels, the squadron had set out for la Martinique. After having
spent some days together, and spoken of their past labours, present
situations, and future projects, General Washington and he took a tender
and painful leave of each other. At the same time that the enemies of
this great man have accused him of insensibility, they have acknowledged
his tenderness for M. de Lafayette; and how is it possible that he
should not have been warmly cherished by his disciple, he who, uniting
all that is good to all that is great, is even more sublime from his
virtues than from his talents? Had he been a common soldier, he would
have been the bravest in the ranks; had he been an obscure citizen, all
his neighbours would have respected him. With a heart and mind equally
correctly formed, he judged both of himself and circumstances with
strict impartiality. Nature, whilst creating him expressly for that
revolution, conferred an honour upon herself; and, to show her work to
the greatest possible advantage, she constituted it in such a peculiar
manner, that each distinct quality would have failed in producing the
end required, had it not been sustained by all the others.
In spite of his extreme debility, M. de Lafayette, accompanied by
his physician, repaired, on horseback, to Boston, where Madeira wine
effectually restored his health. The crew of the _Alliance_ was not
complete, and the council offered to institute a press, but M. de
Lafayette would not consent to this method of obtaining sailors, and it
was at length resolved to make up the required number by embarking
some English deserters, together with some volunteers from among the
prisoners. After he had written to Canada, and sent some necklaces to a
few of the savage tribes, Brice and Nevil, his aides-de-camp, bore his
farewell addresses to the congress, the general, and his friends.
The inhabitants of Boston, who had given him so many proofs of their
kindness and attention, renewed their marks of affection at his
departure; and the _Alliance_ sailed on the 11th of January. A winter
voyage is always boisterous in that latitude; but on approaching the
banks of Newfoundland, the frigate experienced a violent storm: her
main-top mast torn away, injured by a heavy sea, filling with water,
during one long dark night she was in imminent danger; but a still
greater peril awaited her, two hundred leagues from the coast of France.
His British Majesty, encouraging, the mutiny of crews, had issued a
somewhat immoral proclamation, promising them the value of every _rebel_
vessel that they should bring into an English port; which exploit could
only be performed by the massacre of the officers and those who opposed
the mutiny. This proclamation gave rise to a plot which was formed by
the English deserters and volunteers, who had most imprudently been
admitted, in great numbers, on board the ship: not one American or
Frenchman (for some French sailors had been found at Boston, after the
departure of the squadron) took part in this conspiracy. The cry of
_Sail_! was to be raised, and when the passengers and officers came on
deck, four cannon, loaded with canister shot, prepared by the gunner's
mate, were to blow them into atoms. An English serjeant had also
contrived to get possession of some loaded arms. The hour first named
was four in the morning, but was changed to four in the afternoon.
During that interim, the conspirators, deceived by the accent of an
American who had lived a long time in Ireland, and traded on its coast,
disclosed the plot to him, and offered him the command of the frigate:
the worthy man pretended to accept it, and was only able to inform the
captain and M. de Lafayette of the conspiracy one hour before the time
fixed for its execution. They rushed, sword in hand, upon deck, followed
by the other passengers and officers, called upon their own sailors to
assist them, and, seized thirty-one of the culprits, whom they placed
in irons. Many others were accused in the depositions, but it was judged
expedient to appear to rely upon the rest of the crew, although real
confidence was only placed in the French and Americans. Eight days
afterwards, the _Alliance_ entered safely the port of Brest, February,
1779.
When I saw the port of Brest receive and salute the banner which
floated on my frigate, I recalled to mind the state of my country and
of America, and my peculiar situation when I quitted France. The
conspirators were merely exchanged as English prisoners, and I only
thought of rejoining my family and friends, of whom I had received no
intelligence during the last eight months. When I repaired to a court
which had hitherto only granted me _lettres de cachet_, M. de Poix made
me acquainted with all the ministers. I was interrogated, complimented,
and exiled, but to the good city of Paris; and the residence of the
Hotel de Noailles was selected, instead of according me the horrors of
the Bastille, which had been at first proposed. Some days afterwards, I
wrote to the king to acknowledge an error of which the termination had
been so fortunate: he permitted me to receive a gentle reprimand in
person; and, when my liberty was restored to me, I was advised to avoid
those places in which the public might consecrate my disobedience by its
approbation. On my arrival, I had the honour of being consulted by all
the ministers, and, what was far better, embraced by all the ladies.
Those embraces lasted but one day; but I retained for a greater length
of time the confidence of the cabinet, and I enjoyed both favour at
the court of Versailles, and popularity at Paris. I was the theme of
conversation in every circle, even after the queen's kind exertions had
obtained for me the regiment of the king's dragoons. Times are widely
changed; but I have retained all that I most valued--popular favour and
the affection of those I love.
Amidst the various tumultuous scenes that occupied my mind, I did not
forget our revolution, of which the ultimate success still appeared
uncertain. Accustomed to see great interests supported by slender
means, I often said to myself that the expense of one _fête_ would have
organized the army of the United States; and to clothe that army I
would willingly, according to the expression of M. de Maurepas, have
unfurnished the palace of Versailles. In the meantime, the principal
object of the quarrel, American independence, and the advantage our
government and reputation would derive from seizing the first favourable
opportunity, did not appear to me sufficiently promoted by those immense
preparations for trifling conquests, and those projects conceived in the
expectation of peace; for no person seriously believed in war, not even
when it was declared, after the _hundredth injury_ had induced Spain to
enter into those co-operations which finally terminated in nothing more
than noisy exercises.
Footnotes:
1. Note by M. de Lafayette upon the _Memoirs written by himself and his
American correspondence_.--Many papers relating to the first years of my
public life have been destroyed during the reign of terror. An
imperfect copy of these memoirs has been saved: this ought to have been
re-written; I have preferred copying it precisely as it was originally
composed.
Several letters written from America had been copied by my wife for
Dr. Dubrucil, (physician to the king and to _la Charité_, at St.
Germain-en-laza, deceased 1785,) whose friendship was the pride of one
portion of my life, and who has filled the remainder of it with a deep
and tender recollection. Those papers have been preserved; it would be
necessary to suppress some repetitions and insignificant details, but
I have left them almost all untouched, because, whilst forming this
collection, I felt pleasure in recalling the sentiments that had
animated me at various periods of my existence.
The Duke d'Ayen, my father-in-law, was not one of the least hasty and
severe censurers of my departure for America but he restored to me his
favour with all the kindness and sincerity which characterized him: his
affectionate congratulations deeply touched my heart. The same feeling
induces me at the present moment to repeat some details contained in the
letters I addressed to him.
2. Michel-Louis-Christophe-Roch-Gilbert de Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,
colonel of the grenadiers of France, Chevalier de St. Louis, killed at
the battle of Minden before the age of twenty-five.
3. The college du Plessis.
4. Marie-Louise-Julie de la Rivière, died at Paris the 12th of April,
1770, some days before her father Joseph-Yves-Thibauld-Hyacinthe,
Marquis de la Rivière.
5. Previous to the marriage of M. de Lafayette, we have only one letter
written by him at fourteen years of age, the 8th of February, 1772,
which will be read perhaps with some curiosity. It is addressed to his
cousin, Mademoiselle de Chavaniac.
"I have just received, my dear cousin, your letter, and the good account
you give me of my grandmother's health. After that, which was what first
touched my heart, I was much interested by the account of the hunt of
the proprietor of the forests of Lata. I should like very much to know
whether those dogs that neither walk nor bark contributed to the success
of the expedition? The details of that hunt would have amused me very
much; if I had been speaking to you of a new-fashioned cap, I should
have thought it my duty to have described to you its figure and
proportions, with a compass in my hand.
"Our cousin's marriage is broken off; there is another one on
the carpet, but they are obliged to lower their tone exceedingly.
Mademoiselle de Roucherolles, a place with Madame de Bourbon, of a
thousand crowns a-year, and five thousand small livres a-year--that is
the whole amount. You see that this is a very short abridgment of the
other intended matches. My uncle, who came to see me the other day,
consents to the marriage, on condition that the Prince de Condé will
promise one of his regiments of cavalry to the cousin. Madame de
Montboissier thinks this is asking too much, and told M. le Marquis de
Canillic that, in truth, if he were so difficult, her husband would no
longer take any part in his affairs; this offended him and some high
words passed on both sides. The nephew does not care much about the
marriage. He said, there were in his own province far better matches,
which he named, that would not be refused him.
"I thought I had written you word that the Cardinal de Le Roche-Aimon
was abbé de St. Germain. It is said that M. de Briges has the barony
de Mercoeur. M. de la Vauguyon has died, little regretted either by the
court or by the town. The ball of last Thursday is put off to the 15th,
that is to say, for week hence. I dined, the day before yesterday,
Thursday, with M. de la Tour d'Auvergne, who is on a complimentary
footing with M. de Turenne, now Duke de Bouillon. He told us he should
lose perhaps a million from politeness. You will recognise him by that
phrase.
"Adieu, dear cousin; my respects, if you please, to all the family; M.
de Fayon presents his to you, and I remain your obedient servant,
"LAFAYETTE."
6. A place in the household of a prince of royal blood. The Marshal
de Noailles wished for this arrangement. To prevent it without openly
opposing the will of those he loved, M. de Lafayette took an opportunity
of displeasing, by a few words, the prince, to whose person they were
desirous of attaching him, and all negotiations on the subject were thus
broken off. We do not believe that since that period a reconciliation
has ever taken place between him and Louis XVIII.
7. In 1828, Mr. Jared Sparks, a distinguished American author, intending
to form a collection of the writings of Washington, which he is at
present publishing at Boston, made a voyage to France to converse
with M. de Lafayette, and consult the archives of foreign affairs. He
obtained from the general many anecdotes, letters, and documents, of
which extracts have enriched his publication. At the close of vol. v.,
he has placed an appendix, containing the account of the departure of M.
de Lafayette from France, and his arrival in America. We doubt not
but that the details of that narration were related, nay, perhaps even
written, by the general himself. We shall therefore quote some extracts
from it without hesitation, which, placed as notes, will completely
elucidate the text of these memoirs.
"In the summer of 1776," says Mr. Sparks, "M. de Lafayette was stationed
on military duty at Metz, being then an officer in the French army. It
happened at this time that the Duke of Gloucester, brother to the King
of England, was at Metz, and a dinner was given to him by the commandant
of that place. Several officers were invited, and among others
Lafayette. Despatches had just been received by the duke from England,
and he made their contents the topic of conversation; they related to
American affairs, the recent declaration of independence, the resistance
of the colonists, and the strong measures adopted by the ministry to
crush the rebellion.
"The details were new to Lafayette; he listened with eagerness to the
conversation, and prolonged it by asking questions of the duke. His
curiosity was deeply excited by what he heard, and the idea of a people
fighting for liberty had a strong influence upon his imagination; the
cause seemed to him just and noble, from the representations of the duke
himself; and before he left the table, the thought came into his head
that he would go to America, and offer his services to a people who were
struggling for freedom and independence. From that hour he could think
of nothing but this chivalrous enterprise. He resolved to return to
Paris and make further inquiries.
"When he arrived in that city, he confided his scheme to two young
friends, Count Segur and Viscount de Noailles, and proposed that they
should join him. They entered with enthusiasm into his views; but as
they were dependent on their families, it was necessary to consult their
parents, who reprobated the plan and refused their consent. The
young men faithfully kept Lafayette's secret: his situation was more
fortunate, as his property was at his own disposal, and he possessed an
annual revenue of nearly two hundred thousand livres.
"He next explained his intentions to the Count de Broglie who told him
that his project was so chimerical, and fraught with so many hazards,
without a prospect of the least advantage, that he could not for a
moment regard it with favor, nor encourage him with any advice which
should prevent him from abandoning it immediately. When Lafayette found
him thus determined, he requested that at least he would not betray him
for he was resolved to go to America. The Count de Broglie assured him
that his confidence was not misplaced; 'But,' said he, 'I have seen your
uncle die in the wars of Italy; I witnessed your father's death at the
battle of Minden; and I will not be accessary to the ruin of the only
remaining branch of the family: He then used all his powers of argument
and persuasion to divert Lafayette from his purpose, but in vain.
Finding his determination unalterable, the Count de Broglie said, as he
could render him no aid, he would introduce him to the Baron de Kalb,
who he knew was seeking an opportunity to go to America, and whose
experience and counsels might be valuable.--(The Writings of George
Washington, vol. v. Appendix, No. 1, p. 445.)
8. M. du Boismartin was the person sent to Bourdeaux to secure the
purchase and equipment of the ship that M. de Lafayette intended for the
United States.--(Sparks, loc. cit.)
9. It is a singular coincidence that, at the same time that General
Washington, who had never left America, reduced to corps of two thousand
men, did not despair of the common cause, the same sentiment was
animating, two thousand leagues from thence, the breast of a youth
of nineteen, who was destined to become one day his intimate friend,
partake with him the vicissitudes and happy termination of that
revolution, and afterwards carry back to another hemisphere the
principles of liberty and equality which formed its basis.
10. With the Prince de Poix. This journey lasted three weeks.
11. The Marquis de Noailles, brother to the Duke d'Aven, and uncle to
Madame de Lafayette.
12. M. de Lafayette learnt, at Bordeaux, that his intended departure was
known at Versailles, and that the order to prevent it had been already
issued. After having taken his ship to the common port of the Passage,
he returned himself to Bordeaux, and wrote to the ministers, to his
family and friends. Amongst the latter was M. de Coigny, to whom he sent
a confidential person, and who bade him entertain no hopes of obtaining
the permission he wished for. Pretending to repair to Marseilles, where
he had received an order to join his father-in-law, who was going into
Italy, he set off in a postchaise with an officer named Mauroy, who
was desirous of going to America. Some leagues from Bordeaux he got
on horseback, disguised as a courier, and rode on before the carriage,
which took the road to Bayonne. They remained two or three hours in
that town, and whilst Mauroy was arranging some necessary affairs, M.
de Lafayette remained lying on some straw in the stable. It was the
postmaster's daughter who recognised the pretended courier Saint Jean
de Luz, from having seen him when returning from the Passage harbour to
Bordeaux. (Sparks, loc. cit.)
13. These memoirs, written until now in the first person, change here to
the third person, in spite of the kind of engagement taken in the first
page to continue them in the former manner. We are ignorant of the cause
of the inconsistency thus offered by the manuscript, which is, however,
completely written in the general's own hand.
14. See, at the end of these memoirs, amongst the various fragments,
fragment A.
15. The court of France despatched orders to the Leeward and Windward
Islands to stop him on his road, because the ship, not being able to
take out papers for North America, was to have stopped in the Spanish
islands. (Manuscript No. 1.) Mr. Sparks relates that M. de Lafayette
declared to the captain that the ship belonged to him, and that if he
offered the slightest resistance, he would take from him the command and
give it to the mate. But as he soon discovered that the real motive of
the captain's resistance was a cargo belonging to him of 8000 dollars,
M. de Lafayette secured to him its full value upon his own private
fortune, and thus succeeded in overcoming all his scruples.
(Washington's writings, loc. cit.)
16. When they landed, says Mr. Sparks, a distant light served to guide
them. As they approached the house from whence it issued, the dogs
barked, and the people took them for a band of marauders landing from an
enemy's ship. They were asked who they were, and what they wanted. Baron
Kalb replied and all suspicions vanished. The next morning the weather
was beautiful. The novelty of all that surrounded him,--the room, the
bed covered with mosquito nets, the black servant who came to ask his
commands, the beauty and foreign aspect of the country which he beheld
from his windows, and which was covered by a rich vegetation,--all
united to produce on M. de Lafayette a magical effect, and excite in him
a variety of inexpressible sensations. (Sparks, appendix.)
17. An American, who must not be confounded with the two brothers of
that name who commanded the one the English army, the other the English
fleet.
18. When he arrived at Philadelphia, M. de Lafayette delivered his
letters to Mr. Lovell, president of the committee for foreign affairs.
The next day he proceeded to congress: Mr. Lovell came out of the
meeting, and told him there was but little hope of his request being
acceded to. Suspecting that his letters had not been read, M. de
Lafayette wrote the note which will be found in the text. The resolution
of the congress concerning him, deliberated the 31st of July, is
expressed in the following manner: "Seeing that the Marquis de
Lafayette, on account of his great zeal in the cause of liberty in which
the United States are engaged, has quitted his family and country, and
has come to offer his services to the United States, without demanding
either pay or private indemnity, and that he desires to expose his life
in our cause,--resolved, that his services be accepted, and that, on
account of his zeal, illustrious family and connexions, he shall have
the rank and commission of major-general in the army of the United
States." The real intention of this resolution was to give a rank to M.
de Lafayette, and to leave to General Washington the right and care
of confiding to him a command in unison with that rank. (Letters of
Washington, 2nd part. V, p. 10, 35, and 128, and appendix No. I.)
19. He was presented, for the first time, to Washington, says Mr.
Sparks, at a dinner, at which several members of congress were present.
When they were separating, Washington drew Lafayette aside, expressed
much kindness for him, complimented him upon his zeal and his
sacrifices, and invited him to consider the headquarters as his own
house, adding, with a smile that he could not promise him the luxuries
of a court, but that as he was become an American soldier, he would
doubtless submit cheerfully to the customs and privations of a
republican army. The next day Washington visited the forts of the
Delaware, and invited Lafayette to accompany him. (Sparks, ibid.)
20. See fragment B.
21. From Bethlehem he wrote to M. de Boullé, governor of the Windward
Islands, to propose to him to attack the English islands under American
colours. That general approved of the project, and forwarded it to the
court, who would not, however, accept it. At the same period, M. de
Lafayette, although in disgrace himself at court, wrote to the Count de
Maurepas, to propose to him a still more important enterprise against
the English factories, but also under American colours. The old
minister, from prudential motives, did not adopt this project, but
he spoke publicly in praise of it, and expressed, ever after, a great
partiality for Lafayette. "He will end, one day," said he, smiling, "by
unfurnishing the palace of Versailles to serve the American cause; for
when he has taken anything into his head, it is impossible to resist
him."--(Note by M. de Lafayette.)
22. This name is very illegible in the manuscript.
23. The celebrated Alexander Hamilton, one of the authors of the
_Federalist_.
24. Journal of Congress, 1st December, 1777.
25. See fragment C, at the end of the Memoirs.
26. After having thus declared himself, he wrote to congress that "he
could only accept the command on condition of remaining subordinate to
General Washington, of being but considered as an officer detached from
him, and of addressing all his letters to him, of which those received
by congress would be but duplicates." These requests, and all the others
he made, were granted. (Manuscript No. 2.)
27. He had the discretion to renounce an expedition which, undertaken
without proper means, would have produced fatal effects upon the whole
northern part of the United States. At Georgetown, the present residence
of congress, some anxiety was experienced, because they feared that M.
de Lafayette had trusted himself upon the lakes in the season of the
year when the ice begins to melt. The counter orders that were sent
him would have arrived too late; and when it became known that he had
himself renounced the expedition, he received the thanks of congress
and of the minister of war, General Gates, who, in spite of the line
of conduct Lafayette had pursued during his quarrel with General
Washington, had always expressed great respect and esteem for him.
(Manuscript No. 1.)
28. It is singular that the oath of renunciation to Great Britain
and her king, which every one employed in the continental service was
obliged to take at that time, should have been administered in one half
of the United States by a Frenchman of twenty years of age. (Manuscript
No. 2.)
29. See, after these Memoirs, fragment D.
30. The two battalions formed to arrest the enemy's march were placed
by General Washington himself. When, after having expressed his own
feelings of dissatisfaction, he wished to give himself time to form
his army on the heights behind the passage, he left there Major-General
Lafayette, Brigadier-General Knox, commanding the artillery, and
some officers of his staff. The colonels were good officers, and the
battalions conducted themselves perfectly well. When the army was ranged
in order of battle, General Greene commanded the right of the first
line, Lord Stirling the left, and Lafayette the second line. (Manuscript
No. 2.)
31. General Washington was never greater in battle than this action. His
presence stopped the retreat; his arrangements secured the victory. His
graceful bearing on horseback, his calm and dignified deportment, which
still retained some trace of the displeasure he had experienced in the
morning, were all calculated to excite the highest degree of enthusiasm.
(Manuscript No. 2.)
32. See, after these Memoirs, the fragment E.
33. See fragment F.
34. The following was written by M. de Lafayette twenty years after
the presumed date of the memoirs:--"Lord Carlisle refused,--and he was
right. The challenge, however, excited some jokes against the commission
and its president, which, whether well or ill founded, are always
disadvantageous to those who become their objects."--(Manuscript No.
1.) "Lord Carlisle was right: but the challenge appearing the result of
chivalric patriotism, party spirit took advantage of the circumstance,
and the feeling which had inspired this irregular step was generally
approved."--(Manuscript No. 2.)
35. General Washington--who, when Lafayette was wounded at Brandywine,
said to the surgeon, "_Take care of him as if he were my son, for I love
him the same_"--expressed for him, during this illness, the most tender
and paternal anxiety.--(Manuscript No. 1.)
FRAGMENTS
EXTRACTED FROM VARIOUS MANUSCRIPTS.~[1]
Footnote:
1. We have already mentioned these manuscripts. The one we term
_Manuscript No. 1_, consists of a rapid sketch of the American life
of General Lafayette; the other one, or _Manuscript 2_, is entitled,
_Observations on some portion of the American History, by a Friend of
General Lafayette_. Both appear to have been written about the period of
the empire. Fragment A is drawn from the Manuscript No. 2.
* * * * *
A.
DEPARTURE FOR AMERICA IN 1777.
The histories of the American war and revolution are, generally
speaking, very favourable to M. de Lafayette; the life of Washington, by
Mr. Marshall, is especially so. There is one phrase, however, (page
410 of the third volume of the London edition,) which requires
some explanation. "_He left France ostensibly in opposition to his
sovereign_." This circumstance is treated in a more lucid and exact
manner in the following works:--_The History, etc., by William Gordon,
D.D._, vol. ii., pages 499 and 500. _London_, 1788.--_The History of the
American Revolution, by Dr. Ramsay_, vol. ii., page 11. _Philadelphia_,
1789.
The importance of this step was increased by a peculiar circumstance.
The preparations for the purchase and equipment of the vessel had
delayed Lafayette's departure until the period which had been long
previously fixed upon for an excursion of some weeks into England; this
enabled him to conceal his departure; the American commissioners were
well pleased to take advantage of this accident. Lafayette refused the
proposals which were made him in London to visit the ports, or to do
anything which could be construed into an abuse of confidence. He
did not conceal his partiality for the American insurgents; but he
endeavoured to profit by the parade with which, from political motives,
the king and his ministry received at that period all persons coming
from the court of France, and the attention which was paid them. The
Marquis de Noailles, the ambassador, was his uncle. Lafayette felt no
scruple in compromising the diplomatic character of this representation
of the King of France, so that the _maximum_ of the favourable effect
that his departure could produce was obtained in England.
The same result took place in France. It would be difficult at
this period to imagine into what a state of political and military
insignificance the nation and government had been reduced during the
war of seven years, and, above all, after the partition of Poland. The
French ministry had personally, at that period, the reputation of great
circumspection; the few indirect relations it permitted itself to hold
with the agents of the insurgent colonies were only managed through
the medium of unacknowledged agents, and were discovered the moment
the ambassador pretended to become acquainted with them, or that
the Americans could have drawn any advantage from them. Amongst the
departures on which the ministers were kind enough to close their eyes,
there were only four engineers for whom this toleration was in truth
a secret mission.~[1] One word from Lord Stormont was sufficient to
procure the detention, discharge, and sometimes imprisonment of the
Americans admitted into our ports: their liberty or property was only
restored to them surreptitiously, and as if escaping from the vigilance
of a superior.
Amidst this labyrinth of precautions, feebleness, and denials, the
effect may be conceived that was produced at Versailles by the bold step
taken by a youth of distinguished birth and fortune, allied to one of
the first families of the court, by whom the King of England and his
ministers would fancy themselves braved and even laughed at, and whose
departure would leave no doubt as to the connivance of the ambassador
and government of France. The displeasure of the rulers was roused
to the highest pitch: a portion of Lafayette's family shared in this
displeasure. He had secretly traversed France. Having met near Paris
with Carmichael, secretary of the American agents, he had urged the
immediate departure of his vessel from Bordeaux, preferring to complete
the necessary arrangements at the Spanish port of Passage. He returned
himself to Bordeaux, in the hope of obtaining a consent which he
considered would be useful to his cause. The return of his courier
having informed him that they would not condescend to give an answer to
such an indiscreet request, he hastened to quit France himself in the
disguise of a courier, and lost no time in setting sail.
The government, to appease as far as possible, the English ambassador,
despatched two light vessels to the Leeward and Windward Islands to stop
Lafayette. At that period, the French navigators did not risk steering
straight towards the American continent; they first repaired to the
West Indies, and, taking out papers for France, they ranged as close as
possible to the American coast, and endeavoured to seize a favourable
moment or pretext to steal into a harbour. Lafayette's vessel had
followed the common course of all expeditions; but its youthful owner,
who had several officers with him, and had won the affection of the
crew, obliged the captain to take a straightforward direction. A lucky
gale of wind drove off the frigates that had been cruising on the
preceding day before Georgetown, and he sailed into that port, having
been protected by fate against the various obstacles which had been
opposed to his enterprise.
But whilst the French government thus seconded the views of the English
government, the departure of young Lafayette produced, in Paris, in the
commercial towns, in all societies, and even at court, a sensation that
was very favourable to the American cause. The enthusiasm it excited was
in a great measure owing to the state of political stagnation into which
the country had so long been plunged, the resentment excited by
the arrogance of England, her commissioner at Dunkirk, her naval
pretensions, and the love inherent in all mankind of bold and
extraordinary deeds, especially when they are in defiance of the
powerful, and to protect the weak in their struggle for liberty. To
these peculiar circumstances may be imputed the increased interest and
attention, the strong national feeling, and the constantly augmenting
force of public opinion to which the French government at length
yielded, when, in its treaties with the United States, it formed
engagements with them, and commenced a war with England, which were both
equally opposed to its real character and inclination.
Footnote:
1: MM. de de Gouvion, Duportail, Laradiére, and Laumoy.
B.
FIRST INTERVIEW BETWEEN GENERAL WASHINGTON AND GENERAL LAFAYETTE.
The appearance of the two brothers Howe before the capes of the Delaware
had given rise to the supposition that it was upon that side they
intended to land. General Washington repaired with his army towards the
neighbourhood of Philadelphia. That army had been recruiting during the
winter. Washington went to Philadelphia to attend a public dinner given
in honour of him. It was then Lafayette was introduced to him. This
young foreigner had travelled by land over the southern states, and had
made a direct application to the congress, requesting to serve at first
as volunteer, and to serve at his own expense. The members were much
struck with two requests differing so widely from those of several other
officers, and of one in particular, an officer of artillery, who had
made great pretensions on his arrival, and had soon afterwards drowned
himself in the Schuylkill. The rank of major-general (the highest in
the American army) was given to Lafayette. Washington received the young
volunteer in the most friendly manner, and invited him to reside in his
house as a member of his military family, which offer Lafayette accepted
with the same frankness with which it was made.
He remained there until he was appointed to the command of a division.
The court of France had required that the American envoys should write
to America to prevent Lafayette from being employed in their army. They
did not hasten to despatch that letter, and, when its contents became
known, the popularity of Lafayette was so great that it could not
produce any effect. It is thus evident, that from the first moment of
his embracing the American cause every obstacle was thrown in his way;
all of which, however, he encountered and surmounted. (Manuscript No.
1.)
C.
ON THE MILITARY COMMANDS DURING THE WINTER OF 1778, AND THE FRENCH IN
THE SERVICE OF THE UNITED STATES.
Amongst the various means employed to deprive the general-in-chief of
his friends, attempts were made to awaken the ambition of Lafayette, who
already enjoyed much popularity in the army and in the country, and who
besides appeared to the enemies of Washington, from his relations with
Europe, one of the men whom it was most important to draw into their
party. They fancied they should gain him over by offering him the
government of the north, which Gates had just quitted, and by the hope
of an expedition into Canada. General Washington received a packet
from the minister of war, enclosing a commission for Lafayette as an
independent commander-in-chief, with an order to repair to the congress
to receive instructions. The general placed it in his hands, without
allowing himself any observation on the subject. Lafayette immediately
declared to three commissioners of congress, who happened to be at that
moment in the camp, "that he would never accept any command independent
of the general, and that the title of his aide-de-camp appeared to
him preferable to any other that could be offered him." When General
Washington received the order of congress, he only said to his young
friend, whilst placing the letter in his hand, "I prefer its being for
you rather than for any other person."
The military commands, during the winter of 1777-1778, were distributed
in the following manner:--General Washington assembled in some huts at
Valley-Forge what was termed the principal army, reduced at that time
to four or five thousand half-clothed men. General Mac-Dougal had the
direction of a station at Peekskill. Lafayette commanded what was called
the northern army, that is to say, a handful of men; his head-quarters
were at Albany. The enemy made a few incursions, but of slight
importance; and by the exercise of great vigilance, and a judicious
choice of stations, the winter passed away tranquilly. Lafayette had
under his orders two general officers, who had been engaged in the
service of France, namely, General Kalb, a German by birth, who came
over in the same vessel with himself; and General Conway, an Irishman,
who had been a major in a regiment of that nation, also in the service
of France. Besides the four engineers who have been before named,
and these two officers, we must also mention, amongst the foreigners
employed in the service of the United States, Pulaski, a Polish
nobleman, who had taken a conspicuous part in the confederation of his
own country, and who, after the success of the Russians, had arrived
in America with letters of introduction to the congress, General
Washington, and General Lafayette; Kosciuszko, his countryman, who was
a colonel of engineers in America, and who afterwards acted such a grand
and noble part during the last revolutions in Poland; Ternant, by birth
a Frenchman, who has served the United States, Holland, and France
with great ability; La Colombe, aide-de-camp to Lafayette, who has been
subsequently so usefully employed in the French revolution; the Marquis
de la Royerie, whom disappointed love brought to the United States, and
who has since taken part in the counter-revolution; Gimat, aide-de-camp
to Lafayette, who has since had the command in the French islands;
Fleury, who distinguished himself in the defence of Fort Mifflin, and
in the attack of the fort of West-Point, and who afterwards died a
field-marshal in France; Mauduit-Duplessis, an extremely brave officer
of artillery, who has since taken part against the French revolution,
and was massacred at Saint Domingo; Touzard, an officer of artillery,
who lost his arm at Rhode Island, where he was acting as aide-de-camp
to Lafayette; Major Lenfant, employed as engineer; Baron Steuben, a
Prussian officer, a good tactician, who arrived at the commencement of
1778, and was of essential service in disciplining the American troops.
These officers, and several others, obtained employment in America. The
greatest number, however, of those who presented themselves were refused
service, and returned to France, with some few exceptions, to bear
thither their own prejudices against the Americans. Some of those
who remained appear to have written home likewise in the same spirit.
General Washington therefore observes very justly in one of his letters,
that Lafayette, in his correspondence, by destroying the unfavourable
impressions that were given of the Americans, and seeking, on the
contrary, to excite the feelings of the French in their favour, rendered
a new and very important service to their cause. (Manuscript No. 1.)
D.
RETREAT OF BARREN-HILL.
As the English army was preparing to evacuate Philadelphia, Lafayette
was sent, with a detachment of two thousand chosen men, and five pieces
of cannon, to a station half-way betwixt that city and Valley-Forge;
this was Barren-hill. A corps of militia under General Porter had been
placed on Lafayette's left wing; but he retired farther back, and
the English took advantage of that movement to surround Lafayette's
detachment. General Grant, with seven thousand men and fourteen pieces
of cannon, was behind him, and nearer than himself to the only ford by
which it was possible for him to pass the Schuylkill. General Grey, with
two thousand men, arrived on his left at Barren-hill church; whilst the
remainder of the English army, under the command of Generals Clinton and
Howe, prepared to attack him in front. It is said that Admiral Lord Howe
joined the army as a volunteer. The English generals felt so certain
of the capture of Lafayette, that they sent to Philadelphia several
invitations to a _féte_, at which they said Lafayette would be present.
If he had not, in truth, manoeuvred rather better than they did, the
whole corps must inevitably have been lost. Alarm-guns were fired by
the army; General Washington felt additional anxiety from the fact that,
those troops being the flower of his army, their defeat would, he
knew, have discouraged the rest. Lafayette instantly formed his plan of
operation: he threw some troops into the churchyard, to check those of
General Grey. He made a false attack upon General Grant, 'shewing him
the heads of columns; and whilst the latter halted, and formed his
troops to receive him, he caused his detachment to file off. By these
manoeuvres he gained the ford, and passed it in presence of the enemy,
without losing a single man. Two English lines met, and were on the
point of attacking each other, for there was no longer anything between
them; the Americans had been for some time in safety at the other side
of the Schuylkill. The English then returned to Philadelphia, much
fatigued and ashamed, and were laughed at for their ill success.
(Manuscript No. 1.)
E.
ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH FLEET.
The treaty with France became known a short time before the opening
of the campaign. The national enthusiasm for the Americans had much
increased, but the ministry was afraid of war. Necker, in particular,
did all he could to prevent the court of France from espousing the
American cause, which may serve as an answer to the accusations of
revolutionary ardour that were made against him by the aristocrats in
France. Maurepas was very timid, but the news of the taking of Burgoyne
inspired him with some courage. The Count de Vergennes flattered himself
that he should succeed in avoiding war. The court of France shewed
little sincerity in its proceedings with England. The treaty was at
length concluded. Dr. Franklin, Silas Deane, and John Adams, accompanied
by many other Americans then in Paris, were presented to the King and
royal family. They repaired afterwards to the young Madame de Lafayette,
who was at Versailles, wishing to testify by that public act how much
they thought themselves indebted to Lafayette for the happy direction
which their affairs had taken. The news of the treaty excited a great
sensation in America, and, above all, in the army. Lafayette had long
since returned from his command in the north to the head-quarters
of General Washington. The manifesto of the French government to the
British cabinet contained this expression: "The Americans having become
independent by their declaration of such a day." "That," said Lafayette,
smiling, "is a principle of national sovereignty which shall one day be
recalled to them." The French revolution, and the part which he took in
it, have doubly verified this prediction. (Manuscript No. 1.)
Mr. Marshall's work contains a curious dissertation upon the declaration
of war between France and England, and gives also the extract of a
memorial of M. Turgot, which it would be interesting to verify. It would
then be seen what opinions were supported at that time, concerning
the colonies in general, and the quarrel with the English colonies in
particular, by one of the most liberal and enlightened men in regard to
political and commercial questions. The idea that the queen supported
the war party is not correct; her social tastes were rather of the
Anglomania kind; her politics were completely Austrian, and the court of
Vienna did not wish that France should have any pretext for refusing
to fulfil the conditions of the treaty made with it, which were soon
afterwards exacted; but the queen, like a true woman of the world,
followed the impulse given by Paris, the commercial towns, and the
public.
Dr. Ramsay alludes to the happiness which Lafayette must have
experienced when, upon learning the happy news of the French alliance,
he, with tears of joy, embraced his illustrious general. Several persons
present have since recollected that when the message of the court of
Versailles to that of London was read aloud, with all the justifications
which dwelt upon the right of the American nation to give themselves a
government, Lafayette exclaimed,--"That is a great truth which we will
recall to them at home." (Manuscript No. 2.)
F.
DISSENSIONS BETWEEN THE FRENCH FLEET AND THE AMERICAN ARMY.
The history of Dr. Gordon, that of Ramsay, and of Mr. Marshall, give a
detailed account of the arrival of Count d'Estaing at the entrance of
the Delaware, his arrival at Sandyhook, and the expedition against Rhode
Island. Lafayette conducted thither, from White Plains, two thousand men
of the continental troops. He made that journey (two hundred and forty
miles) very rapidly, and arrived before the remainder of the troops
under Sullivan were in readiness. It is to be lamented that the latter
general persuaded Count d'Estaing to await the cooperation of the
Americans, whilst, had he encouraged him to force the passage between,
Rhode Island and Cannanicut Island, he would have had time, at the first
moment of his arrival, to have captured fifteen hundred Hessians who
were upon the last-mentioned island. On the other hand, M. d'Estaing
was wrong in being displeased with General Sullivan for effecting his
passage and taking possession of the forts on the north of the island,
as soon as he learnt that they had been abandoned by the enemy, and
without having concerted any plan of operations with the admiral.
Everything, however, went on extremely well. The Americans had twelve
thousand men upon the island; their right was composed of the half of
the continentalists brought by Lafayette from White Plains, and of five
thousand militia, and was under the command of General Greene; the left
consisted also of five thousand militia, with the other half of the
continentalists, and was commanded by M. de Lafayette. On the 8th
of August the American army proceeded to Howland's ferry, whilst the
squadron forced the passage. The English set fire to three of their own
frigates; they had six frigates, and several other vessels, burnt
during this expedition. In the afternoon of the day that Sullivan's army
landed, they were expecting the battalions of Foix and Hainaut, and the
marines, which were to have joined Lafayette's corps, when Admiral Howe
suddenly hove in sight, and took possession of the anchorage that
Count d'Estaing had quitted, in order to force his passage between the
islands. The French sailors feared that the enemy, would take advantage
of their situation, enclosed as they were between the islands, or that
some reinforcements would at least be thrown upon the southern part
of the island; but the wind having changed during the night, Count
d'Estaing sailed out gallantly through the fire of the English
batteries, and Lord Howe, cutting his cables, fled before him. This
skilful admiral would have paid dearly for his bold manoeuvre, if the
storm had not come most opportunely to his aid.
Mr. Marshall, who had the letters of Washington and Lafayette before
him, states the manner in which Lafayette, on the one side, exposed
himself, without reserve, to the loss of his popularity, and on the
other, zealously exerted himself in defending the honour of the French
from the accusations that the dissatisfaction of the Americans had
universally excited, especially at Rhode Island and Boston, against the
officers of the squadron; and also to prevent that dissatisfaction
from breaking into open disputes. Sullivan, the senior of the three
majors-general, was commander-in-chief. It was after an explanation with
Lafayette, his friend and comrade, that he softened, by a subsequent
order of the day, the expressions which he had imprudently used in the
one preceding. General Greene, a man of superior merit, contributed
much to the reconciliation. The ex-president, Hancock, who had at first
loudly expressed his displeasure, consented to repair to Boston to
endeavour to calm the public mind, and to obtain provisions for the
squadron. The popularity of Lafayette was usefully employed during his
short visit to that town. The congress, and General Washington also,
thought that this quarrel could not he too speedily appeased; but they
were at a distance, and a proper mixture of firmness and persuasion was
required from the first moment. Such a perfect understanding, however,
was now established, that it was not even disturbed by the unfortunate
event which, some time afterwards, cost M. de Saint Sauveur his life.
Much was also due to Dr. Cooper, a distinguished minister of the
Presbyterian church. (Manuscript No. 2.)
CORRESPONDENCE.
1777--1778.
TO THE DUKE D'AYEN.~[1]
London, March 9,1777.
You will be astonished, my dear father, at the news I am on the point
of giving you: it has cost me far more than I can express not to consult
you. My respect and affection for you, as well as my great confidence in
you, must convince you of the truth of this assertion; but my word was
given, and you would not have esteemed me had I broken it; the step I
am now taking will at least prove to you, I hope, the goodness of
my intentions. I have found a peculiar opportunity of distinguishing
myself, and of learning a soldier's trade: I am a general officer in the
army of the United States of America. The frankness of my conduct, and
my zeal in their service, have completely won their confidence. I have
done, on my side, all I could do for them, and their interest will ever
be dearer to me than my own. In short, my dear father, I am at this
moment in London, anxiously awaiting letters from my friends; upon
receiving them, I shall set off from hence, and, without stopping at
Paris, I shall embark in a vessel that I have myself purchased and
chartered. My travelling companions are the Baron de Kalb, a
very distinguished officer, brigadier in the King's service, and
major-general, as well as myself, in the United States' army; and some
other excellent officers, who have kindly consented to share the chances
of my fate. I rejoice at having found such a glorious opportunity of
occupying myself, and of acquiring knowledge. I am conscious that I am
making an immense sacrifice, and that to quit my family, my friends,
and you, my dearest father, costs me more than it could do any other
person,--because I love you all far more tenderly than any other person
ever loved his friends. But this voyage will not be a very long one; we
see every day far longer journeys taken for amusement only; and I hope
also to return more worthy of all those who are kind enough to regret
my absence. Adieu, my dear father, I hope I shall soon see you again.
Retain your affection for me; I ardently desire to merit it--nay, I
do merit it already, from my warm affection towards you, and from the
respect that, during the remainder of his life, will be felt for you by,
Your affectionate son,
LAFAYETTE.
I have arrived, for one moment, at Paris, my dear father, and have only
time to bid you again farewell. I intended writing to my uncle~[2] and
to Madame de Lusignem, but I am in such haste that I must request you to
present to them my respectful regards.
Footnotes:
1. Jean Paul Francois de Noailles, Duke d'Ayen, afterwards Duke de
Noailles, died a member of the House of Peers, in 1824, and was, as is
well known, father-in-law to M. de Lafayette, who had been, we may say,
brought up in the hotel de Noailles, and who looked upon all his wife's
family as his own. It was at that time divided into two branches. The
Marshal de Noailles, governor of Roussillon, and captain of the guards
of the Scotch company, was the head of the eldest branch. He bad four
children: the Duke d'Ayen, the Marquis de Noailles, and Mesdames de
Tesse and de Lesparre. The Duke d'Ayen, a general officer, captain of
the guards in reversion, married Henriette Anne Louise Daguesseau, by
whom he had daughters only. The eldest, who died in 1794, on the
same scaffold as her mother, had married her cousin, the Viscount de
Noailles. The second, Marie Adrienne Françoise,--born the 2nd November,
1759, died the 24th December, 1807,--was Madame de Lafayette. The
three others, unmarried at the time this letter was written, married
afterwards MM. de Thésan, de Montagu, and de Grammont.
The head of the younger branch of the familv of Noailles was the Marshal
de Mouchy, brother of the Marshal de Noailles, whose children were, the
Prince de Poix, who died peer of France, and captain of the guards
under the restoration; the Duchess de Duras; and the same Viscount de
Noailles, member of the constituent assembly, who died of his wounds in
the expedition to St. Domingo, in 1802.
2. M. de Lusignem, an uncle by marriage of M. de Lafayette.
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
On board the _Victory_, May 30th, 1777.
I am writing to you from a great distance, my dearest love, and, in
addition to this painful circumstance, I feel also the still more
dreadful uncertainty of the time in which I may receive any news of
you. I hope, however, soon to have a letter from you; and, amongst the
various reasons which render me so desirous of a speedy arrival, this is
the one which excites in me the greatest degree of impatience. How many
fears and anxieties enhance the keen anguish I feel at being separated
from all that I love most fondly in the world! How have you borne my
second departure? have you loved me less? have you pardoned me? have
you reflected that, at all events, I must equally have been parted from
you,--wandering about in Italy,~[1] dragging on an inglorious life,
surrounded by the persons most opposed to my projects, and to my manner
of thinking? All these reflections did not prevent my experiencing the
most bitter grief when the moment arrived for quitting my native shore.
Your sorrow, that of my friends, Henrietta,~[2] all rushed upon my
thoughts, and my heart was torn by a thousand painful feelings. I could
not at that instant find any excuse for my own conduct. If you could
know all that I have suffered, and the melancholy days that I have
passed, whilst thus flying from all that I love best in the World! Must
I join to this affliction the grief of hearing that you do not pardon
me? I should, in truth, my love, be too unhappy. But I am not speaking
to you of myself and of my health, and I well know that these details
will deeply interest you.
Since writing my last letter, I have been confined to the most dreary
of all regions: the sea is so melancholy, that we mutually, I believe,
sadden each other. I ought to have landed by this time, but the winds
have been most provokingly contrary; I shall not arrive at Charlestown
for eight or ten days. It will be a great pleasure to me to land, as I
am expecting to do, in that city. When I am once on shore, I shall hope
each day to receive news from France; I shall learn so many interesting,
things, both concerning the new country I am seeking, and, above all,
that home which I have quitted with so much regret! Provided I only
learn that you are in good health, that you still love me, and that a
certain number of my friends entertain the same feelings towards me, I
can become a perfect philosopher with respect to all the rest,--whatever
it may be, or whatever land it may concern. But if my heart be attacked
in its most vulnerable part, if you were to love me less, I should feel,
in truth, too miserable. But I need not fear this--need I, my dearest
love? I was very ill during the first part of my voyage, and I might
have enjoyed the pleasure of an ill-natured person, that of knowing
that I had many fellow sufferers. I treated myself according to my
own judgment, and recovered sooner than the other passengers; I am now
nearly the same as if I were on shore. I am certain that, on my arrival,
I shall be in a perfect state of health, and continue so for a
long time. Do not fancy that I shall incur any real dangers by the
occupations I am undertaking. The post of general officer has always
been considered like a commission for immortality. The service will be
very different from the one I must have performed if I had been, for
example, a colonel in the French army. My attendance will only be
required in the council. Ask the opinion of all general officers,--and
these are very numerous, because, having once attained that height, they
are no longer exposed to any hazards, and do not therefore yield their
places to inferior officers, as is the case in other situations. To
prove that I do not wish to deceive you, I will acknowledge that we are
at this moment exposed to some danger, from the risk of being attacked
by English vessels, and that my ship is not of sufficient force for
defence. But when I have once landed, I shall be in perfect safety. You
see that I tell you everything, my dearest love; confide therefore in
me, and do not, I conjure you, give way to idle fears. I will not write
you a journal of my voyage: days succeed each other, and, what is
worse, resemble each other. Always sky, always water, and the next day
a repetition of the same thing. In truth, those who write volumes upon a
sea voyage must be incessant babblers; for my part, I have had contrary
winds, as well as other people; I have made a long voyage, like other
people; I have encountered storms; I have seen vessels, and they were
far more interesting for me than for any other person: well! I have not
observed one single event worth the trouble of relating, or that has not
been described by many other persons.
Let us speak of more important things: of yourself, of dear Henriette,
and of her brother or sister. Henriette is so delightful, that she has
made me in love with little girls. To whichever sex our new infant may
belong, I shall receive it with unbounded joy. Lose not a moment in
hastening my happiness by apprising me of its birth. I know not if it be
because I am twice a father, but my parental feelings are stronger than
they ever were. Mr. Deane, and my friend Carmichael, will forward your
letters, and will, I am sure, neglect nothing to promote my happiness
as soon as possible. Write, and even send me a confidential person,
it would give me such pleasure to question any one who has seen you:
Landrin, for example; in short, whom you please. You do not know the
warmth and extent of my affection, if you fancy that you may neglect
anything relating to yourself. You will be, at first, a long time
without hearing from me; but when I am once established you will
receive letters constantly, and of a very recent date. There is no great
difference of time between letters from America and letters from Sicily.
I own that Sicily weighs heavily on my heart. I fancied myself near
seeing you again! But let me break off at the word Sicily. Adieu, my
dearest love; I shall write to you from Charlestown, and write to you
also before I arrive there. Good night, for the present.
7th June.
I am still floating on this dreary plain, the most wearisome of all
human habitations. To console myself a little, I think of you and of
my friends: I think of the pleasure of seeing you again. How delightful
will be the moment of my arrival! I shall hasten to surprise and embrace
you. I shall perhaps find you with your children. To think, only, of
that happy moment, is an inexpressible pleasure to me; do not fancy that
it is distant; although the time of my absence will appear, I own, very
long to me, yet we shall meet sooner than you can expect. Without being
able myself to fix the day or the month of our reunion, without being
aware even of the cause of our absence, the exile prescribed by the Duke
d'Ayen, until the month of January, appeared to me so immeasurably long,
that I certainly shall not inflict upon myself one of equal length. You
must acknowledge, my love, that the occupation and situation I shall
have are very different from those that were intended for me during that
useless journey. Whilst defending the liberty I adore, I shall enjoy
perfect freedom myself: I but offer my service to that interesting
republic from motives of the purest kind, unmixed with ambition or
private views; her happiness and my glory are my only incentives to the
task. I hope that, for my sake, you will become a good American, for
that feeling is worthy of every noble heart. The happiness of America is
intimately connected with the happiness of all mankind; she will
become the safe and respected asylum of virtue, integrity, toleration,
equality, and tranquil happiness.
We have occasionally some slight alarms, but, with a little skill
and good luck, I am certain of reaching the port in safety. I am more
pleased with this prospect, because I feel that I am becoming, every
day, extremely reasonable. You know that the viscount~[3] has the habit
of repeating, that "_travelling forms young men_;" if he said this but
once every morning and once every evening, in truth it would not be too
much, for I am constantly more strongly impressed with the justice of
the observation. I know not where the poor viscount is at this present
moment, nor the prince,~[4] nor all my other friends. This state of
uncertainty is a very painful one. Whenever you chance to meet any
one whom I love, tell him a thousand and ten thousand things from me.
Embrace tenderly my three sisters, and tell them that they must remember
me, and love me; present my compliments to Mademoiselle Marin;~[5] I
recommend, also, poor Abbé Fayon to your care. As to the Marshal de
Noailles, tell him that I do not write to him, for fear of tiring him,
and because I should have nothing to announce to him but my arrival;
that I am expecting his commissions for trees or plants, or whatever
else he may desire, and that I should wish my exactness in fulfilling
his wishes to be a proof of my affection for him. Present, also, my
respects to the Duchess de la Trémoïlle,~[6] and tell her that I make
the same offer to her as to the Marshal de Noailles, either for herself
or her daughter-in-law, who has such a beautiful garden. Tell my old
friend Desplaus,~[7] also, that I am well. As to my aunts, Madame d'Ayen
and the viscountess, I am myself writing to them.
These are my little commissions, my love; I have also written to Sicily.
We have seen, to-day, several kinds of birds, which announce that we are
not far from shore. The hope of arriving is very sweet, for a ship life
is a most wearisome one. My health, fortunately, allows me to occupy
myself a little; I divide my time between military books and English
books. I have made some progress in this language, which will become
very necessary to me. Adieu; night obliges me to discontinue my letter,
as I forbade some days ago, any candles being used in my vessel: see how
prudent I have become! Once more, adieu; if my fingers be at all guided
by my heart, it is not necessary to see clearly to tell you that I love
you, and that I shall love you all my life.
15th June--At Major Hughes's.~[8]
I have arrived, my dearest love, in perfect health, at the house of
an American officer; and, by the most fortunate chance in the world, a
French vessel is on the point of sailing; conceive how happy I am. I
am going this evening to Charlestown, from whence I will write to you.
There is no important news. The campaign is opened, but there is no
fighting, or at least, very little. The manners in this part of the
world are simple, polite, and worthy in every respect of the country
in which the noble name of liberty is constantly repeated. I intended
writing to Madame d'Ayen, but I find it is impossible. Adieu, adieu,
my love. From Charlestown I shall repair, by land, to Philadelphia, to
rejoin the army. Is it not true that you will always love me?
Footnotes:
1. At the moment when M. de Lafayette's project of departure was taking
place, he had been desired to join the Duke d'Ayen, and Madame de Tessé,
his sister, who were setting out for Italy and Sicily.
2. The first-born of M. de Lafayette, which died during his voyage. (See
letter 16th June, 1778.)
3. The Viscount de Noailles, brother-in-law to M. de Lafayette.
4. The Prince de Poix, son of the Marshal de Mouchy, and consequently
uncle, according to the mode of Bretagne, to Madame de Lafayette.
5. Mademoiselle Marin was governess to Mesdemoiselles de Noailles; and
the Abbé Fayon was tutor to M. de Lafayette.
6. Madame de Lafayette, author of the _Princess de Clever_, had only one
daughter, who became Madame de la Tremoille, and heiress to the property
of the Lafayette family; and who cheerfully consented to restore to her
cousins, who inhabited the province, those estates which a love of their
family might make them wish to conserve to the heritors of the name of
Lafayette. Since that period, the members of that branch, of which M. de
Lafayette was the last scion, have constantly kept up feelings, not only
of relationship, but of friendship, with the family of la Tremoille.
7. An old valet de chambre.
8. The father of him who so generously devoted himself to save Lafayette
from the prisons of Olmutz--(Note of M. de Lafayette.)
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
June 19th, 1777, Charlestown.
If my last letter, my dearest love, written five or six days ago, was
closed hastily, I hope at least that the American captain, whom I then
believed to be a French one, will remit it to you as soon as possible.
That letter announced to you that I had landed safely in this country,
after having suffered a little from sea-sickness during the first weeks
of my voyage; that I was staying with a very kind officer, in whose
house I was received upon my arrival; that I had been nearly two months
at sea, and was anxious to continue my journey immediately; that letter
spoke of everything which interests my heart most deeply, of my regret
at having quitted you, of your pregnancy, and of our dear children; it
told you, also, that I was in perfect health. I repeat this extract from
it, because the English may very possibly amuse themselves by seizing it
on its way. I place, however, so much confidence in my lucky star, that
I hope it will reach you safely. That same star has protected me to the
astonishment of every person; you may, therefore, trust a little to it
in future, my love, and let this conviction tranquillize your fears. I
landed after having sailed for several days along a coast swarming with
hostile vessels. On my arrival here every one told me that my ship must
undoubtedly be taken, because two English frigates had blockaded the
harbour. I even sent, both by land and sea, orders to the captain to
put the men on shore, and burn the vessel, if he had still the power of
doing so. Well! by a most extraordinary piece of good fortune, a sudden
gale of wind having blown away the frigates for a short time, my vessel
arrived at noon-day, without having encountered friend or foe. At
Charlestown I have met with General Howe, a general officer, now engaged
in service. The governor of the state is expected this evening from the
country. All the persons with whom I wished to be acquainted have
shewn me the greatest attention and politeness (not European politeness
merely); I can only feel gratitude for the reception I have met
with, although I have not yet thought proper to enter into any detail
respecting my future prospects and arrangements. I wish to see the
congress first. I hope to set out in two days for Philadelphia, which
is a land journey of more than two hundred and fifty leagues. We shall
divide into small parties; I have already purchased horses and light
carriages for this purpose. There are some French and American vessels
at present here, who are to sail out of the harbour in company to-morrow
morning, taking advantage of a moment when the frigates are out of
sight: they are numerous and armed, and have promised me to defend
themselves stoutly against the small privateers they will undoubtedly
meet with. I shall distribute my letters amongst the different ships, in
case any accident should happen to either one of them.
I shall now speak to you, my love, about the country and its
inhabitants, who are as agreeable as my enthusiasm had led me to
imagine. Simplicity of manner, kindness of heart, love of country and of
liberty, and a delightful state of equality, are met with universally.
The richest and the poorest man are completely on a level; and although
there are some immense fortunes in this country, I may challenge any one
to point out the slightest difference in their respective manner towards
each other. I first saw and judged of a country life at Major Hughes's
house: I am at present in the city, where everything somewhat resembles
the English customs, except that you find more simplicity here than you
would do in England. Charlestown is one of the best built, handsomest,
and most agreeable cities that I have ever seen. The American women are
very pretty, and have great simplicity of character; and the extreme
neatness of their appearance is truly delightful: cleanliness is
everywhere even more studiously attended to here than in England. What
gives me most pleasure is to see how completely the citizens are all
brethren of one family. In America there are none poor, and none even
that can be called peasants. Each citizen has some property, and all
citizens have the same rights as the richest individual, or landed
proprietor, in the country. The inns are very different from those of
Europe; the host and hostess sit at table with you, and do the honours
of a comfortable meal; and when you depart, you pay your bill without
being obliged to tax it. If you should dislike going to inns, you may
always find country houses in which you will be received, as a good
American, with the same attention that you might expect in a friend's
house in Europe.
My own reception has been most peculiarly agreeable. To have been merely
my travelling companion, suffices to secure the kindest welcome. I have
just passed five hours at a large dinner given in compliment to me by
an individual of this town. Generals Howe and Moultrie, and several
officers of my suite, were present. We drank each other's health, and
endeavoured to talk English, which I am beginning to speak a little. I
shall pay a visit to-morrow, with these gentlemen, to the governor of
the state, and make the last arrangements for my departure. The next
day, the commanding officers here will take me to see the town and its
environs, and I shall then set out to join the army. I must close and
send my letter immediately, because the vessel goes to-night to the
entrance of the harbour, and sails to-morrow at five o'clock. As all the
ships are exposed to some risk, I shall divide my letters amongst them.
I write to M M. de Coigny, de Poix, de Noailles, de Ségur, and to Madame
d'Ayen.~[1] If either of these should not receive my letter, be so kind
as to mention this circumstance.
From the agreeable life I lead in this country, from the sympathy which
makes me feel as much at ease with the inhabitants as if I had known
them for twenty years, the similarity between their manner of thinking
and of my own, my love of glory and of liberty, you might imagine that I
am very happy: but you are not with me, my dearest love; my friends
are not with me; and there is no happiness for me when far from you and
them. I often ask you if you still love, but I put that question still
more often to myself and my heart ever answers, yes: I trust that heart
does not deceive me. I am inexpressibly anxious to hear from you; I hope
to find some letters at Philadelphia. My only fear is that the privateer
which was to bring them to me should have been captured on her
way. Although I can easily imagine that I have excited the especial
displeasure of the English, by taking the liberty of coming hither in
spite of them, and landing before their very face, yet I must confess
that we shall be even more than on a par if they succeed in catching
that vessel, the object of my fondest hopes, by which I am expecting to
receive your letters. I entreat you to send me both long and frequent
letters. You are not sufficiently conscious of the joy with which I
shall receive them. Embrace, most tenderly, my Henriette: may I add,
embrace our children? The father of those poor children is a wanderer,
but he is, nevertheless, a good honest man,--a good father, warmly
attached to his family, and a good husband also, for he loves his wife
most tenderly. Present my compliments to your friends and to mine; may
I not say _our_ friends? with the permission of the Countess Auguste and
Madame de Fronsac.~[2] By _my friends_, you know that I mean my own dear
circle, formerly of the court, and which afterwards became the society
of _the wooden sword_;~[3] we republicans like it the better for the
change. This letter will be given you by a French captain, who, I think,
will deliver it into your own hands; but I must confide to you that I
have an agreeable anticipation for to-morrow, which is to write to you
by an American, who will sail on the same day, but at a later hour.
Adieu, then, my dearest love; I must leave off for want of time and
paper; and if I do not repeat ten thousand times that I love you, it is
not from want of affection, but from my having the vanity to hope that
I have already convinced you of it. The night is far advanced, the heat
intense, and I am devoured by gnats; but the best countries, as you
perceive, have their inconveniences. Adieu, my love, adieu.
Footnotes:
1. The Viscount de Coigny, son of the last marshal of that name, was the
intimate friend of M. de Lafayette in his youth. He died young, perhaps
even during this voyage.--(See the letters of January the 6th, and
February 13th, 1778.) The Count de Ségur, who had married the sister
of the Duchess d'Ayen, and who was, therefore, the uncle of M. de
Lafayette, continued, to the last, his friend--(See the memoirs
published before his death, which occurred in 1830.)
2. The Countess Auguste d'Aremberg, the wife of Count de Lamark, the
friend of Mirabeau, and the Duchess de Fronsac, daughter-in-law to the
Marshal de Richelieu.
3. A society of young men, who first assembled at Versailles, and
afterwards at an inn at Paris.--(Note by M. de Lafayette.)
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
Petersburg, July 17th, 1777.
I am very happy, my dearest love, if the word happiness can truly be
applied to me, whilst I am separated from all I love; there is a vessel
on the point of sailing for France, and I am enabled to tell you, before
setting out for Philadelphia, that I love you, my dearest life, and that
you may be perfectly tranquil respecting my health. I bore the fatigue
of the journey without suffering from it; although the land expedition
was long and wearisome, yet the confinement of my melancholy ship was
far more so. I am now eight days' journey from Philadelphia, in the
beautiful state of Virginia. All fatigue is over, and I fear that my
martial labours will be very light, if it be true that General Howe has
left New York, to go I know not whither. But all the accounts I receive
are so uncertain, that I cannot form any fixed opinion until I reach my
destination; from thence, my love, I shall write you a long letter. You
must already have received four letters from me, if they have not fallen
into the hands of the English. I have received no news of you, and
my impatience to arrive at Philadelphia to hear, from you cannot be
compared to any other earthly feeling. Conceive the state of my mind,
after having passed such an immense length of time without, having
received a line from any friend! I hope all this will soon end, for I
cannot live in such a state of uncertainty. I have undertaken a task
which is, in truth, beyond my power, for my heart was not formed for so
much suffering.
You must have learnt the particulars of the commencement of my journey:
you know that I set out in a brilliant manner in a carriage, and I must
now tell you that we are all on horseback,--having broken the carriage,
according to my usual praiseworthy custom,--and I hope soon to write to
you that we have arrived on foot. The journey is somewhat fatiguing;
but although several of my comrades have suffered a great deal, I have
scarcely myself been conscious of fatigue. The captain who takes charge
of this letter will, perhaps, pay you a visit; I beg you in that case to
receive him with great kindness.
I scarcely dare think of the time of your confinement, and yet I think
of it every moment of the day. I cannot dwell upon it without the most
dreadful anxiety. I am, indeed, unfortunate, at being so distant from
you; even if you did not love me, you ought to pity me; but you do love
me, and we shall mutually render each other happy. This little note will
be short in comparison to the volumes I have already sent you, but you
shall receive another letter in a few days from me.
The farther I advance to the north, the better pleased am I with the
country and inhabitants. There is no attention or kindness that I do not
receive, although many scarcely know who I am. But I will write all this
to you more in detail from Philadelphia. I have only time to intreat
you, my dearest love, not to forget an unhappy man, who pays most dearly
for the error he committed in parting from you, and who never felt
before how tenderly he loved you.
My respectful compliments to Madame d'Ayen, and my affectionate regards
to my sisters. Tell M. de Coigny and M. de Poix that I am in good
health, in case some letters should miscarry which I shall send by
another opportunity, by which I shall also send a line to you, although
I do not consider it so secure as this one.
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
July 23rd, 1777.
I am always meeting, my dearest love, with opportunities of sending
letters; I have this time only a quarter of an hour to give you. The
vessel is on the point of sailing, and I can only announce to you my
safe arrival at Annapolis, forty leagues from Philadelphia. I can tell
you nothing of the town, for, as I alighted from my horse, I armed
myself with a little weapon dipt in invisible ink. You must already have
received five letters from me, unless King George should have received
some of them. The last one was despatched three days since; in it I
announced to you that my health was perfectly good, and had not been
even impaired by my anxiety to arrive at Philadelphia. I have received
bad news here; Ticonderoga, the strongest American post, has been forced
by the enemy; this is very unfortunate, and we must endeavour to repair
the evil. Our troops have taken, in retaliation, an English general
officer, near New York. I am each day more miserable from having quitted
you, my dearest love; I hope to receive news of you at Philadelphia,
and this hope adds much to the impatience I feel to arrive in that city.
Adieu, my life; I am in such haste that I know not what I write, but I
do know that I love you more tenderly than ever; that the pain of this
separation were necessary to convince me how very dear you are to me,
and that I would give at this moment half my existence for the pleasure
of embracing you again, and telling you with my own lips how well I love
you. My respects to Madame d'Ayen, my compliments to the viscountess, my
sisters, and all my friends: to you only have I time to write. O! if you
knew how much I sigh to see you, how much I suffer at being separated
from you, and all that my heart has been called on to endure, you
would think me somewhat worthy of your love! I have left no space for
Henriette; may I say for my children? Give them a hundred thousand
embraces; I shall most heartily share them with you.
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
Philadelphia, September 12th, 1777.
I write you a line, my dearest love, by some French officers, my
friends, who embarked with me, but, not having received any appointment
in the American army, are returning to France. I must begin by telling
you that I am perfectly well, because I must end by telling you that we
fought seriously last night, and that we were not the strongest on the
field of battle. Our Americans, after having stood their ground for
some time, ended at length by being routed: whilst endeavouring to rally
them, the English honoured me with a musket ball, which slightly wounded
me in the leg,--but it is a trifle, my dearest love; the ball touched
neither bone nor nerve, and I have escaped with the obligation of lying
on my back for some time, which puts me much out of humour. I hope that
you will feel no anxiety; this event ought, on the contrary, rather to
reassure you, since I am incapacitated from appearing on the field for
some time: I have resolved to take great care of myself; be convinced
of this, my love. This affair, will, I fear, be attended with bad
consequences for America. We will endeavour, if possible, to repair the
evil. You must have received many letters from me, unless the English be
equally ill-disposed towards my epistles as towards my legs. I have
not yet received one letter, and I am most impatient to hear from you.
Adieu; I am forbidden to write longer. For several days I have not had
time to sleep. Our retreat, and my journey hither, took up the whole of
last night; I am perfectly well taken care of in this place. Tell all my
friends that I am in good health. My tender respects to Madame d'Ayen.
A thousand compliments to the viscountess and my sisters. The officers
will soon set out. They will see you; what pleasure! Good night, my
dearest life! I love you better than ever.
TO MADAME DE LAFAYETTE.
October 1st, 1777.
I wrote to you, my dearest love, the 12th of September; the twelfth was
the day after the eleventh, and I have a little tale to relate to you
concerning that eleventh day. To render my action more meritorious, I
might tell you that prudent reflections induced
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