“Cold on Canadian hills orMinden’s plain,Perhaps that parent mourned her soldier slain,Bent o’er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew,The big drops mingling with the milk he drew.”[53]
“Cold on Canadian hills orMinden’s plain,Perhaps that parent mourned her soldier slain,Bent o’er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew,The big drops mingling with the milk he drew.”[53]
“Cold on Canadian hills orMinden’s plain,
Perhaps that parent mourned her soldier slain,
Bent o’er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew,
The big drops mingling with the milk he drew.”[53]
The mother died soon after, leaving her child alone in the world, with rank and fortune such as few possess.
In the Memoirs, written by his own hand, Lafayette mentions simply his birth, without allusion to family or ancestry. This was characteristic of one who had so completely renounced all such distinctions. But the temptations he overcame and the prejudices he encountered can be fully appreciated only when we know his origin. His family was not merely ancient and noble, but for generations historic. It had given to French renown a Marshal, who, after honorable service in Italian campaigns, fought by the side of the Maid of Orléans in the expulsion of the English from France; and it had added to the more refined glories of the nation an authoress of that name, the friend of Rochefoucauld and Madame de Sévigné, who shone by literary genius at the court of Louis the Fourteenth, and became an early example of what woman may accomplish: so that the young orphan bore a name which, in a land of hereditary distinctions, seemed to enlist him for their conservation, while it gave him everywhere an all-sufficient passport.
But as some are born poets and others are born mathematicians, the Marquis de Lafayette was born with instinctive fidelity to the great principlesof Liberty and Equality, by the side of which all hereditary distinctions disappear. Liberty, he had the habit of saying, was with him a religion, a love, and a geometrical certainty; and this passion, thus sacred, ardent, and confident, was inborn, perpetual, and irresistible. While still a child in the seclusion of Auvergne, he sighed for dangerous adventure, and when at the age of eleven he was transferred to college at Paris, the soul of the young noble responded instinctively to all instances of republican virtue. In the child may be seen the man, and he delighted afterwards to remember that during those early years, when the heart showed itself as it was, in a school exercise describing “the perfect horse,” he lost the prize by picturing the noble animal as throwing his rider at sight of the whip. Nor did his ardent nature express itself in superficial sallies. At every period of life, and particularly in youth, he was grave and silent even to coldness,—thus in external manner differing from the giddy and ostentatious nobles of his day, as he contrasted with them in character.
An early marriage, at the age of sixteen, with the remarkable daughter of the ducal house of Noailles, enlarged his aristocratic connections, and completed all that heart could desire for happiness or worldly advancement. But the life of a courtier, even with the companionship of royal princes, did not satisfy his earnest nature, and he turned away from the grandeurs and follies of Versailles to follow in the steps of his father as captain in the French army. Stationed at Metz, a border fortification on the Rhenish frontier of France, an incident occurred which gave impulse and direction to his life.
The Duke of Gloucester, brother of King George the Third, smarting under slights at court on account of a marriage disagreeable to the King, turned his back upon England, and in his travels stopped at Metz, where he was welcomed at dinner by the commander of the garrison. At that table sat the youthful Lafayette, only nineteen years old, who there for the first time heard the story of the American “insurgents,” as they were called,—of their armed resistance to British troops, and of the Declaration of Independence. His whole nature was thrilled, and the passionate declamation against arbitrary power to which the English Duke gave vent, though stirred only by wounded pride and spite, fell like a spark upon his sincere and sensitive soul, already kindling with generous emotions, so that, before the dinner was ended, his resolution was fixed to cross the ocean and offer his sword to distant, unknown fellow-men struggling for liberty. This was in the autumn of 1776.[54]Hastening back to Paris, he lost no time in engaging with the American Commissioners there, who with grateful astonishment welcomed their romantic ally.
Meanwhile came tidings of melancholy reverses which followed the Declaration of Independence, and of the scanty forces of Washington tracking the snow with bloody feet, as they retreated through New Jersey,—seeming to announce that all was lost. The American Commissioners frankly confessed that they could not encourage Lafayette to proceed with his purpose. But his undaunted temper was quickened anew, and when they told him that with their damaged credit it wasimpossible to provide a vessel for his conveyance, he exclaimed: “Thus far you have seen my zeal only; now it shall be something more. I will purchase and equip a vessel myself. It is while danger presses that I wish to join your fortunes.” Noble words, worthy of immortality, and never to be heard without a throb by an American heart!
Before embarking, Lafayette, partly to mask his enterprise, and also in the hardihood of courage, visited England, where his wife’s uncle, the French ambassador, presented him to George the Third, who, unconscious of his purpose, said, “I hope you mean to stay some time in Britain”; to which he answered, that it was not in his power. “What obliges you to leave us?” asked the King. “Please your Majesty,” said our new ally, “I have a very particular engagement; and if your Majesty were aware of it, you would not desire me to stay.” During this visit everything was open to the youthful soldier, and he was even invited to attend the review of British troops about to embark for America. From instinctive delicacy he declined, thinking it not right to take advantage of a hospitable invitation to inspect troops against whom he was about to array himself in war. “But,” he added, in relating this incident, “I met them six months after at the Brandywine.”
Quitting England, he traversed France with secrecy and despatch to join his vessel, which was at a Spanish port, beyond French jurisdiction. His departure came like a bolt upon the English Court, which he had just left, also upon the French Court, which was not yet prepared for a break with England, and upon his most affectionate family, who were planning for him a tour in Italy, which in his busy life he never made; but hisyoung wife, who suffered most, loved him too well not to partake his sentiments and to approve his generous resolution, even though it separated him from her. To illustrate the general sensation, I quote the words of the historian Gibbon, in a letter dated April 12, 1777. “We talk chiefly of the Marquis de Lafayette, who was here a few weeks ago. He is about twenty, with an hundred and thirty thousand livres a year, the nephew of Noailles, who is ambassador here. He has bought the Duke of Kingston’s yacht, and is gone to join the Americans.[55]His family interfered by peremptory command, and the French Government interfered by that arbitrary mandate, under seal of the King, known aslettre-de-cachet,—but, disregarding the one and evading the other, in the disguise of a courier, our devoted ally traversed the Pyrenees, and soon found himself with his companions in arms on board his vessel, which, on the 26th of April, 1777, set sail for America.
Undertaking this enterprise at a time when the sea and all beyond were little known, the youthful adventurer showed a heart of “triple oak.” Our admiration is enhanced, when we recall the charms of country, rank, and family left behind,—with perils of capture and war braved even before reaching the land,—and especially when we contemplate the motive in which this enterprise had its origin. Rarely has hero gone forth on so beautiful an errand; for he carried words of cheer to our fathers, then in despairing struggle for the Great Declaration, and opened the way for those fleets and armies of France soon after marshalled on our side; nor is it too much to say, that he was the good angel ofIndependence. His family correspondence, which has seen the light only since his death, exhibits his beautiful fidelity and the completeness of his dedication to our cause. In a letter to his distinguished father-in-law, announcing his purpose, he says of American interests, that they “will always be more dear to him than his own,” and then declares himself “at the height of joy at having found so fine an occasion to do something and to improve himself.”[56]In a letter to his wife, written on the voyage, under date of June 7, 1777, his sympathy with the great objects of the national contest is tenderly revealed. “I hope, for my sake,” he writes, in words worthy of everlasting memory, “that you will become a good American. This is a sentiment proper for virtuous hearts. Intimately allied to the happiness of the whole Human Family is that of America, destined to become the respectable and sure asylum of virtue, honesty, toleration, equality, and of a tranquil liberty.”[57]Where are nobler words of aspiration for our country than this simple testimony by a youth of nineteen, pouring out his heart to his wife of seventeen? Where in history are grander words from youth or man? For seven weeks laboring through the sea, yet sustained by thoughts like these, he arrived at last on the coast of South Carolina. It was dark, but, pushing ashore in a boat, and following the guidance of a light, he found himself under a friendly roof. His first word, as he touched the land, was a vow to conquer or perish with it.
The Continental Congress was then sitting at Philadelphia, and, without stopping for rest, the sea-worn voyager hastened to report himself there. Most of theway on horseback, for nine hundred miles, he journeyed on, enjoying the country in its native freshness, and the simple, cordial welcome which greeted him everywhere on the road. “The further North I advance,” thus he wrote to his wife, “the more I like this country and its people.”[58]He had already been struck by what to him were “black domestics who came to ask his orders.”[59]Then for the first time he looked upon a slave. His well-known sentiments, so constantly declared, show clearly how his candid nature must have been troubled. He had forsaken France, where, amidst gross inequalities of condition, this grossest was unknown,—where, in the descending ranks of the feudal hierarchy, there was no place for this degradation,—where, amidst unjust taxes and injurious privileges without number, every man had a right at least to his child, to his wife, and to himself,—and where the boast went forth, as in England, and was repeated by judicial tribunals, that the air was too pure for a slave. With heavenly generosity he had turned away from his own country to help the cause of Freedom in another hemisphere, and here he found man despoiled of allpersonalrights, and even degraded to be property, by those whose own struggles merely forpoliticalrights had thrilled the fibres of his being. Youthful, and little schooled as yet in the world, he must have recoiled instinctively, as this most dismal and incomprehensible inconsistency appeared before him. How faithfully he battled with the demon his life will show.
Arrived in Philadelphia, he announced that he had come to serve at his own expense and as volunteer. The Continental Congress, touched by the magnanimous devotion of the youthful stranger, and apprised of his distinguished connections at home, appointed him without delay Major-General in the army of the United States, where he took rank by the side of Gates and Greene, Lincoln and Lee. Born to exalted condition in an ancient monarchy, he found himself welcomed to the highest place in the military councils of a struggling republic, and this while still a youth under twenty,—younger than Fox, younger than Pitt, when they astonished the world by their precocious parliamentary powers,—younger than Condé, in his own beautiful France, on the field of Rocroi. And his modesty was not less eminent than his post. To Washington, who made apologies for exhibiting his troops before a French officer, he replied with interesting simplicity, “I have come to learn, and not to teach.”[60]The Commander-in-Chief, usually so grave, was won at once to that perpetual friendship which endured unbroken as long as life,—showing itself now in tears of joy and then in tears of grief,—watching the youthful stranger with paternal care,—sharing with him table, tent, and on the field of Monmouth the same cloak for a couch,—following his transcendent fortunes, now on giddiest heights and then in gloom, with constant, unabated attachment,—corresponding with him at all times,—addressing him in terms of unwonted endearment as “the man he loved,”[61]and saying again that he “had not words to express his affection, were he to attempt it,”[62]—sending kindly sympathy to that devoted wife in her unparalleled affliction,and pleading across sea and continent with the Austrian despot for his release from the dungeons of Olmütz.
It is much to have inspired the most tender friendship which history records in the life of Washington. There were with us other strangers, scarcely less brilliant than Lafayette. There was Kosciusko, the Pole, who afterwards played so great a part in his own country—Steuben, the German, who did so much for the discipline of our troops,—De Kalb, the gallant soldier, who died for us at Camden,—Rochambeau, the distinguished commander of the French forces, compeer with Washington at Yorktown,—Lauzun, the sparkling courtier, whose fascinations were acknowledged by Marie Antoinette,—Ségur, the high-bred youthful soldier and future diplomatist,—Montesquieu, grandson of the immortal author of the “Spirit of Laws,”—Saint-Simon, whose military and ancestral honors are now lost in his fame as social reformer,—also the unfortunate Count de Loménie, with the Prince de Broglie of the old monarchy, and Berthier, afterwards a prince of the Empire. All these were in our revolutionary contest gathered about Washington; but Lafayette alone obtained place in his heart. Friendship is always a solace and delight; but such a friendship was a testimony. Let it ever be said that Washington chose Lafayette as friend, while Lafayette was to him always pupil, disciple, son.
His intrepidity found early occasion for display at the Battle of the Brandywine, where, attempting to rally our unlucky troops, he was severely wounded in the leg, and thus at once, by suffering for us, increased his titles to regard. As he became known, his simple andbountiful nature awakened the attachment of officers and men, so that in writing to his wife he was able to relieve her anxieties by saying that he had “the friendship of the army in gross and in detail,” and also what he calls “a tender union with the most respectable, the most admirable of men, General Washington.”[63]Nor was this unnatural, when we consider how completely he became American in dress, food, and habits, as he was already American in heart. Avoiding no privation or fatigue, this juvenile patrician, educated to indulgence in all the forms that wealth and privilege could supply, showed himself more frugal and more austere even than his republican associates, living sometimes for months on a single ration. The confidence of Congress soon followed, and by special resolution Washington was requested to place him at the head of an independent command.
Meanwhile France openly enlisted on our side. Turgot, the philosopher, and Necker, the financier, counselled, as far-sighted ministers, against this step, which launched the ancient monarchy in a dangerous career. Jealous of a rival power, smarting under recent reverses, and brooding over the accumulated rancors of long generations, the Court was willing to embarrass England, yet covertly and without the hazard of open war. The King himself never sympathized with the American cause. But public opinion, which in that nation inclines to generous ideas, was moved by the news of a distant people waging a contest for Human Rights, at first doubtful, and then suddenly illumined by the victory of Saratoga,—while Franklin, the philosopher and diplomatist, our unequalled representative at Paris,challenged the admiration alike of grave and gay, and the example of Lafayette touched the heart of France. These wrought so far, that Court and King were obliged to bend before the popular will, and then came the Treaty of Alliance with the Colonies by which their place in the Family of Nations was assured. The Treaty was communicated to the British Court, with a note referring Independence to the Declaration of the 4th of July, on which Lafayette, with constant instinct for popular rights, exclaimed, “Here is a principle of national sovereignty which will some day be recalled at home.”[64]Of course, if Americans could become independent by a Declaration, so could Frenchmen.
The duties of Frenchman were now superadded to the duties Lafayette had assumed toward our cause. “As long,” said he, in a letter to Congress, “as I thought I could dispose of myself, I made it my pride and pleasure to fight under American colors in defence of a cause which I dare more particularly calloursbecause I had the good luck to bleed for it. Now that France is involved in a war, I am urged by a sense of duty, as well as by patriotic love, to present myself before the King, and know in what manner he judges proper to employ my services. The most agreeable of all will always be such as may enable me to serve the common cause among those whose friendship I have had the happiness to obtain, and whose fortune I have had the honor to follow in less smiling times.” Congress responded by unlimited leave of absence, with permission to return at his own convenient time, and by a vote of grateful thanks and a sword, together with a letter to the French King, where they said, “We recommendthis young nobleman to your Majesty’s notice, as one whom we know to be wise in council, gallant in the field, and patient under the hardships of war.”[65]Never before did Frenchman return from service abroad with such a letter to his king.
On his way to embark at Boston, he was attacked by a fever, which in its violence seemed about to prevail, so that Washington dwelt on the daily tidings of the physician “with tears in his eyes,” and it was reported at one time that “the soldier’s friend,” as he was called, had died.[66]Happily he was spared to his two countries, and to the affection of his commander. Always true to Liberty, he would not let the crew of the frigate waiting for him at Boston be recruited by impressment,—thus in all things guarding the rights of the people.[67]
If the sensation in Europe caused by his departure had been great, that caused by his return, after two years of brilliant service, with eminent military rank, with the thanks of Congress and the friendship of Washington, was greater far. He could not appear anywhere without greetings of admiration which knew no bounds, while, to borrow his own account, he was “consulted by all the ministers, and, what is much better, kissed by all the women.”[68]In a journey to his estate, the towns through which he passed honored him with processions and civic pomp. But his distant friends, struggling for the Great Declaration, were never outof mind. Accustomed to large interests sustained by small means, he regretted eachfêteeven in his own honor as a diversion of supplies, while his zeal went so far as to make the Prime-Minister, M. de Maurepas, declare that for this cause Lafayette would strip Versailles of its furniture. Such an influence, so sincere and so constant, from one who spoke not only as a French noble, but as a Major-General of the American army, was not without result. The papers of Lafayette attest the ability with which he pressed upon the French Government an active participation in the contest, and especially prompted the decisive expedition of Rochambeau.
But he did not loiter at home. Soon he turned from country and family. Again he crossed the sea, and this time landed at Boston, for which, at a later day, he recorded a “predilection,”[69]chiefly, it appears, because there were no slaves there, and all were equal. The hearts of the people everywhere throbbed with welcome; the army partook of this delight, and Washington now “shed tears of joy.”[70]The republican sentiments which animated him appear in the present of a flag to one of our battalions, with a simple wreath of laurel blending with a civic crown, and the words beneath, “No other.”[71]Farewell to crowns and coronets, to kings and nobles! Such was the great lesson of the flag. Then commenced the second part of his American career,—his active military service,—his command in Virginia,—his campaign against Cornwallis, when the latter said triumphantly, “The boy shall not escape me,”—and hiscoöperation in the final assault at Yorktown, ending in the capitulation of the British commander to the combined forces of America and France,—all of which belongs to the history of both countries.
The campaign in Virginia redounded to the praise of Lafayette in no common measure. After announcing his designation for this service, and saying that “the command of the troops in that State cannot be in better hands,” Washington proceeds:—
“He possesses uncommon military talents, is of a quick and sound judgment, persevering, and enterprising without rashness; and besides these, he is of a very conciliating temper and perfectly sober, which are qualities that rarely combine in the same person. And were I to add that some men will gain as much experience in the course of three or four years as some others will in ten or a dozen, you cannot deny the fact and attack me upon that ground.”[72]
“He possesses uncommon military talents, is of a quick and sound judgment, persevering, and enterprising without rashness; and besides these, he is of a very conciliating temper and perfectly sober, which are qualities that rarely combine in the same person. And were I to add that some men will gain as much experience in the course of three or four years as some others will in ten or a dozen, you cannot deny the fact and attack me upon that ground.”[72]
Madison wrote at the time that “his having baffled and finally reduced to the defensive so powerful an army as we now know he had to contend with, and with so disproportionate a force, would have done honor to the most veteran officer.”[73]The General Assembly of Virginia, by solemn resolution, conceived in the warmest terms of affection and applause, acknowledged “his many great and important services to this Commonwealth in particular, and through it to the United States in general,” and tendered to him therefor “the grateful thanks of the free representatives of a free people.” They also directed a marble bust of him, “as a lasting monument of his merit and of their gratitude.”This judgment was sanctioned by the highest authorities, including Washington.[74]A recent author adds to this testimony by speaking of the campaign as “masterly,” and then characterizes it as “the most brilliant, as well as the most successful, part of his whole public career.”[75]But this judgment strangely forgets that lifelong loyalty to Human Rights which in itself is a campaign beyond any in war.
Grim-visaged war now smoothed its wrinkled front, and, in the lull which ensued after the surrender of Cornwallis, Lafayette returned again to France, with the renewed thanks of Congress, and with added trusts. Our ministers abroad were instructed to consult him. The youthful soldier was changed into the more youthful diplomatist; nor was he less efficient in the new field. His presence alone was for our country an Embassy. Through him the haughty Spanish Court was approached, and gigantic forces were gathered at Cadiz for an expedition in the common cause. At the same time his republican character was so far recognized, that the Spanish monarch, anticipating the capture of Jamaica, exclaimed, “Lafayette must not be its governor, as he would make it a republic.”[76]Great Britain bowed before the storm and signed the Treaty of Peace, by which American Independence was recognized. It was fit that this great news should reach Congress through our greatest benefactor. It was first known by a letterfrom Lafayette, dated atCadiz, February 5, 1783; so that he who had espoused our cause in its gloom became the herald of its final triumph.
But another letter, bearing date the same day and forwarded by the same vessel with that announcing the glad tidings, opens another duty which already occupied his inmost soul. Thus he writes to Washington, under date ofCadiz, February 5, 1783,[77]and the remarkable coincidence of dates shows how closely he associated the rights of the African slave with our National Independence.
“Now, my dear General, that you are going to enjoy some ease and quiet, permit me to propose a plan to you, which might become greatly beneficial to the black part of mankind. Let us unite in purchasing a small estate where we may try the experiment to free the negroes and use them only as tenants. Such an example as yours might render it a general practice; and if we succeed in America, I will cheerfully devote a part of my time to render the method fashionable in the West Indies.If it be a wild scheme, I had rather be mad this way than to be thought wise in the other task.”[78]
“Now, my dear General, that you are going to enjoy some ease and quiet, permit me to propose a plan to you, which might become greatly beneficial to the black part of mankind. Let us unite in purchasing a small estate where we may try the experiment to free the negroes and use them only as tenants. Such an example as yours might render it a general practice; and if we succeed in America, I will cheerfully devote a part of my time to render the method fashionable in the West Indies.If it be a wild scheme, I had rather be mad this way than to be thought wise in the other task.”[78]
As if this great proposition were not enough, Lafayette, in the same letter, calls upon Washington to employ himself “in inducing the people of America to strengthen their Federal Union,” saying, “It is a work in which it behooves you to be concerned; I look upon it as a necessary measure.” Thus were Emancipation and Union conjoint in his regard.
At the date of this letter Lafayette was not yet twenty-six years of age, and now, one struggle ended, hebegins another greater still, or rather he gives to the first its natural development, and shows how truly he accepts the truths declared by our fathers. Others might hesitate; he does not. In these few words addressed to Washington will be seen the same spirit which inspired him originally to enlist for us, the same instinctive love of Liberty, the same self-sacrifice, the same generosity, the same nobleness, expressed with affecting simplicity and frankness. Valuable as is this testimony for the African race, it is also precious in illustration of that remarkable character, which, from the beginning, was guided by no transient spirit of adventure, but by a sentiment almost divine for Human Rights. In this light his original consecration to our cause assumes new dignity, while American Independence becomes but a stage in the triumphs of that Liberty which is the common birthright of all mankind. If Fox was aboy-debater, as he has been called, then was Lafayette aboy-hero,—and hero of Humanity he continued to the end.
During the next year, at the pressing invitation of Washington, he again crossed the ocean, to witness the peaceful prosperity of the country whose government he had helped to found by twofold service in war and in diplomacy. Adopted child of the Republic, he surrendered himself for six months to the sympathies of the people, the delights of friendship, and the companionship of Washington, whom he visited at Mount Vernon, and with whom he journeyed. Nor did his partiality for Boston fail at this time, as a contemporary record shows. “The reception I met with in Boston,” he wrote, “no words can describe; at least it is impossible to express what I have felt.”[79]But, far more than all, the Slaveryof the African race interested his heart, and would not allow him to be silent. In official answers to addresses of welcome from Legislatures of Southern States, he declared his desire to see these Legislatures commence the work of Abolition.[80]This was in 1784, before Clarkson, then a youth at the University, was inspired to write his Essay against Slavery, which was the glorious beginning of his lifelong career, and before Wilberforce brought forward his memorable motion in the British Parliament for the abolition of the slave-trade. If these words were of little effect at that early day, they bear witness none the less to the exalted spirit of their author. In taking leave of Congress, as he was about to embark, he let drop other words, exhibiting the same spirit, wherein may be seen the mighty shadow of the Future. “May this immense temple of Freedom,” he said, “ever standa lesson to oppressors,an example to the oppressed, a sanctuary for the rights of mankind! and may these happy United States attain that complete splendor and prosperity which will illustrate the blessings of their government, and for ages to come rejoice the departed souls of its founders!”[81]Such utterance by a French noble tells that the Revolution was approaching.
The friendship of Washington and Lafayette deserves more than passing mention. It constitutes a memorable part in the life of each. Already we have witnessed its beginning. They saw each other for the last time at Annapolis, where Washington had taken his welcome guest in his carriage from Mount Vernon. There they parted, Washington returning to his peaceful home, Lafayette hastening across the ocean to the great destinies and the great misfortunes which awaited him. But before leaving our shores he wrote a letter from his ship, where he pours out his devotion to his great chief, calling him “the most beloved of all friends he ever had or ever shall have anywhere,” declaring his regret that he cannot have “the inexpressible pleasure of embracing him in his own house, of welcoming him in a family where his name is adored,” and to this adding: “Everything that admiration, respect, gratitude, friendship, and filial love can inspire is combined in my affectionate heart to devote me most tenderly to you. In your friendship I find a delight which words cannot express.”[82]Though never meeting again, their intimacy was prolonged by an interchange of letters, the most remarkable of any in the life of either, by which their friendship is made one, and each lives doubly in the affection of the other.
Returned to Europe, Lafayette sought constant opportunities to promote our interests,—writing especially of Jefferson, our Minister at Paris, that he was “happy to be his aide-de-camp.”[83]Nor did he confine his exertionsto France. Traversing Germany, from Brunswick to Vienna, he was everywhere a welcome guest, first with the Emperor, and then with the King of Prussia, who was the famous Frederick, sometimes called the Great,—described by Lafayette, in a picture worthy of a Dutch artist, as “an old, decrepit, and dirty corporal, all covered with Spanish snuff, the head almost resting on one shoulder, and fingers almost dislocated by the gout.”[84]Cornwallis of Yorktown, who was there as a visitor also, confessed that at the camp in Silesia “there was a most marked preference for Lafayette.”[85]But wherever the hero appeared, our concerns, whether political or commercial, were still present to his thoughts. At the table of Frederick he vindicated American institutions, and especially answered doubts with regard to “the strength of the Union,” which he upheld always as a fundamental condition of national prosperity. He confidently looked to our Independence as the fruitful parent of a new order of ages, being that rightful self-government, above all hereditary power, whether of kings or nobles, which he proudly called the “American Era.”
His heart was ever intent on projects of Human Improvement. Aroused by the disabilities of Protestants in France, amounting to absolute outlawry, sad heritage of that fatal measure, the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, Lafayette, though himself a Catholic, entered into earnest efforts for their liberation, and thus enrolled himself among champions of Religious Freedom.At the same time his opposition to African slavery assumed a practical form. Washington acknowledged his appeal from Cadiz, of 5th February, 1783, but unhappily deferred action.[86]Lafayette went forward alone. At an expense of 125,000 francs, this foremost of Abolitionists purchased a plantation of slaves in the French colony of Cayenne, that by emancipation he might try the great experiment of Free Labor, and set an example to mankind.[87]The spirit of this enterprise was seen on the arrival of the agent from Paris, who began by collecting all the slave-whips and other instruments of punishment on the plantation, and burning them in presence of the slaves. This was in 1785, two years after the original proposition to Washington, who, on learning its execution, thus complimented his more than disciple:—
“The benevolence of your heart, my dear Marquis, is so conspicuous upon all occasions that I never wonder at any fresh proofs of it; but your late purchase of an estate in the colony of Cayenne, with a view of emancipating the slaves on it, is a generous and noble proof of your humanity. Would to God a like spirit might diffuse itself generally into the minds of the people of this country! But I despair of seeing it.”[88]
“The benevolence of your heart, my dear Marquis, is so conspicuous upon all occasions that I never wonder at any fresh proofs of it; but your late purchase of an estate in the colony of Cayenne, with a view of emancipating the slaves on it, is a generous and noble proof of your humanity. Would to God a like spirit might diffuse itself generally into the minds of the people of this country! But I despair of seeing it.”[88]
Alas! had Washington at that time united with Lafayette, there would have been a living example of untold value to our country, instead of that dead despair which was like a stone wall in the path of Progress. Who can imagine the good from such an instance, teaching the priceless benefits of Freedom? Who canestimate its happy influence in extinguishing that great controversy which is not yet ended? It is sad to think that such an opportunity was lost.
While organizing Emancipation in the distant colony of Cayenne, Lafayette gave other evidence to his American friends. In a letter to John Adams, our Minister in London, dated February 22, 1786, he expresses himself with a vigor never surpassed during the long warfare with Slavery. “In the cause of my black brethren,” he writes, “I feel myself warmly interested, and most decidedly side, so far as respects them,against the white part of mankind. Whatever be the complexion of the enslaved, it does not, in my opinion, alter the complexion of the crime which the enslaver commits, a crime much blacker than any African face.”[89]
The following brief note to Alexander Hamilton is another gem of character.
“Paris, April 13, 1785.“My Dear Hamilton,— … In one of your New York Gazettes I find an associationagainst the slavery of negroes, which seems to me worded in such a way as to give no offence to the moderate men in the Southern States. As I ever have beenpartial to my brethren of that color, I wish, if you are one in the society, you would move, in your own name, for my being admitted on the list. My best respects wait on Mrs. Hamilton. Adieu.“Your affectionate friend,“Lafayette.”[90]
“Paris, April 13, 1785.
“My Dear Hamilton,— … In one of your New York Gazettes I find an associationagainst the slavery of negroes, which seems to me worded in such a way as to give no offence to the moderate men in the Southern States. As I ever have beenpartial to my brethren of that color, I wish, if you are one in the society, you would move, in your own name, for my being admitted on the list. My best respects wait on Mrs. Hamilton. Adieu.
“Your affectionate friend,
“Lafayette.”[90]
How much in little! The testimony is plain. The witness is a volunteer. In simple words he records himself once more “against the slavery of negroes,” and thendeclares that he has ever been “partial to his brethren of that color.” For him the degraded slave is brother, although of a color not his own.
That great event was now at hand, which, beginning in a claim of rights denied, and inspired by generous ideas, was destined, amidst falling privileges and toppling thrones, to let loose the most direful furies of Discord and War,—to feed the scaffold with blood of King and Queen, and of good men in all the ranks of life,—to lift the nation to unknown heights of audacity and power,—to dash back the hosts of foreign invasion, as the angry surge from the rock,—to achieve victory on a scale of grandeur never witnessed since the eagles of Cæsar passed from Britain to Egypt,—and, finally, to mark a new epoch in the history of the Human Family. The French Revolution had come. It was foreshadowed in the writings of philosophers, in the gradual march of Human Progress, in the wide-spread influence of the American Revolution, in the growing instincts of the people, and the obvious injustice of existing things,—and it was begun in the example of Lafayette. Of all men, he was its natural leader, just so long as it continued moderate and humane. Alas, that such a cause, so beautiful in itself and so grand in promise, was wrested from its original character by the passions of men!
The initial step was the Assembly of the Notables, February 22d, 1787, brought together for the first time since its convocation to serve the arbitrary rule of Cardinal Richelieu. There sat the two brothers of the King, all the princes of the blood, archbishops, bishops, dukes, peers, the chancellor, high officials of the magistracy, and distinguished nobles, convoked by theKing in the interest of his crown. But the people had no representative there. Lafayette became their representative. As he had formerly drawn his sword, so now he raised his voice for popular rights; nor was he deterred by the courtly presence. Startled by his boldness, the Count d’Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, attempted to call him to order, as acting on subjects not before the Assembly. “We are summoned,” said Lafayette, “to make the truth known to his Majesty. I must discharge my duty.” He proceeded, and here you see how the great tragedy opened.
By formal propositions, sustained by well-considered reasons, he called for: 1. Removal of Protestant disabilities, and complete establishment of religious toleration; 2. Equality of imposts, and suppression of certain unjust taxes; 3. Abolition of all arbitrary imprisonment, and especially the odiouslettre-de-cachet; 4. Revision of the criminal laws; 5. Economy in the royal household, pensions, and all the departments of government.
Following these moderate demands, he made a “motion,”—the first time, it is said, this parliamentary word, so suggestive of liberal discussion, was ever used in France,—and this motion was for nothing less than the convocation of a “National Assembly,”—uttering here two other momentous words, which were then and there for the first time pronounced. “What!” exclaimed the Count d’Artois, “do you demand the States General?” “Yes, and even more,” was the reply of Lafayette.[91]
The States General were convened in May, 1789, at Versailles, in the very shadow of that palace where in latter years the kings and courtiers of the French monarchy had lived like the gods of Olympus, and at once this ancient body took the name of “National Assembly.” Here appeared the imposing figure of Mirabeau, demanding, in the name of the people, that the troops should be removed. By his side was the yet youthful Lafayette, seconding the demand, which he followed by proposing aDeclaration of the Rights of Man, embodying not merely specific rights secured by precedent and practice, as in the English Bill of Rights, but the Rights of Man founded on Nature, and above all precedent or practice. Such a statement was known in our country. It constitutes part of the Declaration of Independence, and also of the Constitution of Massachusetts, giving character to each; but it was now for the first time put forth in Europe, illustrating that “American Era” which Lafayette constantly proclaimed. Its importance was immense. It supplied a touchstone for all wrongs, and elevated the hearts of the people. It began as follows.
“Nature has made men free and equal; the distinctions necessary for social order are founded on general utility only. Every man is born with rights inalienable and imprescriptible: such are the liberty of his opinions; the care of his honor and of his life; the right of property; the entire disposal of his person, of his industry, of all his faculties; the communication of his thoughts by all means possible; the pursuit of happiness; and resistance to oppression.”[92]
“Nature has made men free and equal; the distinctions necessary for social order are founded on general utility only. Every man is born with rights inalienable and imprescriptible: such are the liberty of his opinions; the care of his honor and of his life; the right of property; the entire disposal of his person, of his industry, of all his faculties; the communication of his thoughts by all means possible; the pursuit of happiness; and resistance to oppression.”[92]
In launching this Declaration, Lafayette vindicated it as “recalling sentiments which Nature has engraved on the heart of every one, but which take new forcewhen recognized by all; and this development,” he said, “becomes the more interesting, since for a nation to love Liberty it is sufficient that she knows it, and to be free it is sufficient that she wills it.” He stated its further value as “an expression of those truths from which all institutions should spring, and by which the representatives of the nation should be guided.”[93]
The Declaration of the Rights of Man, presented 11th July, 1789, was a victory whose influence can never die. It redounded immediately to the glory of Lafayette. Lally-Tollendal, after declaring the ideas “grand and majestic,” said that their author “speaks of Liberty as he has already defended it.” These were words of sympathy. Already the Archbishop of Sens had remarked in the councils of the King, “Lafayette is the most dangerous of antagonists, as his politics are all in action.”
A few days later, the Bastile, at once fortress and prison, where for four hundred years the lawless will of arbitrary power had buried its victims in a living tomb, was levelled to the ground by the people of Paris, and with it fell the ancient monarchy. Elated by success, the people looked for a leader, and found him in the author of the Declaration of the Rights of Man. Amidst heartfelt applause Lafayette was placed at the head of the embodied militia of the metropolis, which, under his auspices, was organized as the National Guard. Thus in a brief time two achievements were his,—first, the introduction of a Declaration of the Rights of Man, which he was foremost to present, and, secondly, the organization of the National Guard, which was the beginning of a citizen soldiery. Each was an event;the two together make an epoch.
Thus far champion of Liberty, it was now his part to maintain order; and never was this work more conscientiously pursued. The colors of Paris wereblueandred, but his spirit of conciliation was shown by adding to themwhite, which was the ancient color of France, out of these three forming that famoustricolor, which he then proudly proclaimed was destined “to make the tour of the world.” Strong in the popularity he had won, he shrank from none of the responsibilities of his perilous post, braving alike the multitude and the assassin,—unharmed himself, treading calmly the burning ploughshares of civil strife,—throwing over all the shield of his protection, and by chivalrous intervention at Versailles saving King and Queen from an infuriated mob,—but always telling the King, that, if his Majesty separated the royal cause from that of the people, he should remain with the people: of all which there are details written in blood.
Though engrossed by his post as Commander of the National Guard, Lafayette did not neglect those other duties as representative of the people. In the Assembly he boldly proclaimed the right of resistance to tyranny, saying, with sententious point, “Where Slavery prevails, the most sacred of duties is insurrection.”[94]He called for trial by jury,—liberty of worship,—the rights of colored people in the colonies,—the suppression of all privileges,—the abolition of the nobility itself. To one who asked, how, after the abolition of titles, they would replace the words “ennobled for having saved the State on a particular day,” he answered,“Simply by declaring that on the day named the person in question saved the State.” The proposition prevailed, and from that time this sincere and upright citizen laid down his own time-honored title, borne by his family for successive generations, and was known only as Lafayette. And otherwise he gave testimony by example,—accepting the honorary command of the National Guard formed by colored citizens of San Domingo, although he refused this distinction from other guards out of Paris, and entertaining colored men in the uniform of the National Guard at his dinner-table, where Clarkson, the English Abolitionist, met them in 1789.[95]
Beyond question, he was now the most exalted citizen of France,—centre of all eyes, all hopes, and all fears,—holding in his hand the destinies of King and people. Rarely has such elevation been achieved; never was such elevation so honestly won, and never was it surrounded by responsibilities so appalling. Nothing of office, honor, or power was beyond his reach, while peril of all kinds lay in wait for him or sat openly in his path. But he was indifferent alike to temptation and to danger. Emoluments in whatsoever form he rejected, saying that he attached no more importance to the rejection than to the acceptance. Field-Marshal, Grand-Constable, Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom, Dictator even,—such were titles which he put aside. Had his been a vulgar ambition, he might have clutched at supreme power, and played the part of Cromwell or Napoleon. But, true to the example of Washington, and, above all, true to himself and those just sentimentswhich belonged to his nature, he thought only of the good of all. Calmly looking down upon the formless chaos, where ancient landmarks were heaving in confused mass, he sought to assuage the wide-spread tumult, and to establish that divine tranquillity, which, like the repose of Nature, is found only in harmony with law, to the end that Human Rights, always sacred, should have new force from the prevailing order. And this done, it was his precious desire to withdraw into the retirement of his home.
The Constitution, with its Declaration of the Rights of Man, was at length proclaimed. Amidst unprecedented pomp, in a vast field, the Campus Martius of France, surrounded by delegates from all parts of the country, and under the gaze of the anxious people gathered in uncounted multitudes, the King, sitting upon his throne, took the oath to support it. Lafayette, as Major-General of the Federation, did the same,—while National Guard and people, by voice and outstretched hand, united in the oath. How faithfully he kept this oath, true to the Constitution in all respects, upholding each department in its powers, subduing violence, watching the public peace, and for the sake of these hazarding his good name with the people whose idol he was,—all this belongs to the history of France. Assured that the Revolution had accomplished its work, he caused an amnesty to be proclaimed, and then deliberately laid down his vast military power. Amidst the gratulations of his countrymen and votes of honor, he withdrew to the bosom of his family at the home of his childhood. Unhappily, this was for a period very brief.
The emigrant nobles, with two brothers of the King, were gathering forces on the Rhenish frontier of France. Austria and Prussia had joined in coalition for the same hostile purpose. France was menaced; but its new government hurled three armies to meet the invaders. The army of the centre was placed under the command of Lafayette. At the mention of his name in the Assembly there was an outburst of applause, and when he appeared at its bar, the President, addressing him, said, “France will oppose to her enemies the Constitution and Lafayette.” Little was then foreseen how soon thereafter both were to fall.
A new influence was showing itself. Danton and Robespierre were active. Clubs were organized, whose daily meetings lashed the people to lawless frenzy. Extreme counsels prevailed. Violence and outrage ensued. The Jacobins, whose very name has become a synonym for counsellors of sedition, were beginning to be dominant. The Revolution was losing its original character. The generous Lafayette, who had been its representative and its glory, in whom its true grandeur and humanity were all personified, revolted at its excesses. From camp he addressed the National Assembly, denouncing the Jacobins as substituting license for liberty,—and then, supporting his letter, gallantly appeared at the bar of the Assembly and repeated his denunciation. But the Reign of Terror was lowering, destined to fill France with darkness, and to send a shudder through the world. After bloody conflict at the gates of the palace, the King and his family were driven to seek protection in the bosom of the Assembly. The scaffold was not yet entirely ready. But the Constitution was overturned, and with it Lafayette. Doubly faithful, first to the oath he had taken, and then to hisown supreme integrity, he denounced the audacious crime. He was then at the head of his army; but Jacobin hate had marked him as victim. Shrinking from the horrors of civil contest, where success is purchased only by the blood of fellow-citizens, he resolved—sad alternative!—to withdraw from his post, and, passing into neutral territory, seek the United States, there from a distance to watch the storm which was desolating his own unhappy country.
As his eminence was without precedent, so also was his fall. Power, fortune, family, country, all were suddenly changed for a dungeon, where, amidst cruel privations, for more than five years, he wore away life. But not in vain; for who can listen to the story of his captivity without confessing new admiration for that sublime fidelity to principle which illumined his dungeon?
With heart rent by anguish and darkened by the gathering clouds, Lafayette, accompanied by a few friends, left his army at Sedan. Traversing the frontier, in the hope of reaching Holland, he fell into the hands of the Royal Coalition; and then commenced the catalogue of indignities and hardships under which his soul seemed rather to rise than to bend. His application for a passport was answered by the jeer that his passport would be for the scaffold, while a mob of furious royalists sought to anticipate the executioner. The King of Prussia, hoping to profit from his increasing debility, suggested that his situation would be improved in return for information against France. The patriot was aroused at this attempt on his character. “The King of Prussia is very impertinent,” he replied, while composing himself to the continued rigors which beset him. First immured at Wesel on the Rhine, he was next transportedin a cart, by a long journey, to the far-famed Magdeburg, whose secrets have been disclosed by Baron Trenck, where for a year he was plunged in a damp subterranean dungeon, closed by four successive doors, all fastened by iron bolts, padlocks, and chains, when, on the separate peace between Prussia and the French Republic, he was handed over to Austrian jailers, by whom he was transferred to Olmütz, an outlying fortress, then little known, but now memorable in history, on the eastern border of Austria, further east than the old castle which witnessed the imprisonment of Richard Cœur-de-Lion and the generous devotion of Blondel. Here his captivity was complete. Alone in his cell, with no object in sight except the four walls,—shut out from all communication with the world,—shut out even from all knowledge of his family, who on their part could know nothing of him,—never addressed by name,—mentioned in the bulletins of the prison only by his number,—and, to cut off all possible escape by self-destruction, deprived of knife and fork: such was now his lot. If not a slave compelled to work without wages, he was even a more wretched captive.
But never for one moment was his soul shaken in its majestic fidelity; never was his example more lofty. At the beginning, he was careful, by official declaration, to make known his principles, so that he might not be confounded with fugitive royalists. But his prison cell was a constant testimony. Letters now exist, written at peril of life, with toothpick dipped in soot moistened with vinegar, where his wonderful nature is laid bare.[96]Confessing his joy that he suffers from that despotism which he combated, rather than from thepeople he loved so well, he announces his equal hostility to the committees of Jacobinism and the cabinet of the Coalition,—declares his firm conviction, that, amidst all the shocks of anarchy, Liberty will not perish,—remembers with a thrill the anniversary of American Independence, as that day comes round,—says of his own Declaration of the Rights of Man, that, if he were alone in the universe, he would not hesitate to maintain it,[97]and repels with scorn every effort to vindicate him at the expense of his well-known sentiments, declaring that he would give his blood, drop by drop, to the people’s cause, and that on the scaffold his first and last words should be “Liberty and Equality,” while he charges all the wrongs, all the crimes, all the perils, all the sufferings of the Revolution upon the wretched departure from these sacred principles.[98]His political faith was grandly declared, when, addressing the Minister of the United States at London, he calls down a blessing upon our Republic, saying, “MayLiberty and Equality, with all the virtues truly republican, honest industry, moderation, purity of manners, frankness and liberality of spirit, obedience to the laws, firmness against all usurpation, continue to prove that American Freedom has its roots deep, not only in the head, but at the bottom of the heart of its citizens! May public prosperity, happiness of individuals, and federal concord be a perpetual recompense to the United States, and an example for other people!”[99]These words of benediction, original as great, aptly define that “American Era” which our hero had already hailed, while they invoke upon our country all that virtuous heart coulddesire. But never did soul rise to purer heights than when, at the beginning of his captivity, he bequeathed this consoling truth as his legacy to mankind, that the satisfaction from a single service rendered to Humanity outweighs any suffering inflicted by enemies, or even by the ingratitude of the people,[100]—and then, as the dungeon closed upon him, forgetting all that he was called to undergo, his own personal afflictions and prolonged captivity, he sends his thoughts to the poor slaves on his distant plantation in Cayenne, whose emancipation he had sought to accomplish. In the universal wreck of his fortunes he knew not what had become of this plantation, but he trusts that his wife “will take care that the blacks who cultivate it shall preserve their liberty.”[101]Search history, whether ancient or modern pages, let Greece and Rome testify, but you can find nothing more sublimely touching than this voice from that heavy-bolted dungeon, serenely pleading for the liberty of others far away. That noblest woman, mated with him in soul as in marriage vow, had already exerted herself to accomplish this purpose,—but, alas! without effect. Cruelly was their liberty confiscated with his estates.[102]
This confiscation, where Liberty itself disappeared, was the terrible climax of that proscription which now enveloped his friends and his family. In the prevailing masquerade of blood the charge ofFayettismwas equivalent to a decree of death. Nor was tender woman spared. The grandmother, the mother, and the sisterof his wife, all of the same ducal house, perished on the scaffold. His wife was thrown into prison, and escaped the same fate only by the timely overthrow of Robespierre. Regaining liberty after a cruel imprisonment of sixteen months, her maternal care was for her son, George Washington Lafayette, still a boy, whom she sent to his great namesake at Mount Vernon with a letter from herself, and then, accompanied by her two youthful daughters, with the protection of an American passport, she makes her way across Germany to Vienna, where she throws herself before the Imperial despot. To her prayer for the release of her husband, he answers that “his hands are tied”; but, moved by her devotion, so womanly, so wifely, so heroic, he yields so far as to consent that she, with her daughters, may share his wretched captivity. Penetrating his dungeon, she learned that the first change of raiment allowed him was on her arrival, when the tattered rags which scarcely covered his emaciated form were exchanged for a garb of coarsest material,—an indulgence not accorded without the insult of informing him that this had been purposely sought, as with such alone was he worthy to be clothed.[103]Three silver forks in her little inventory were seized by the jailer, and this refined family during a lingering imprisonment were driven to eat with their fingers. These things are not to be forgotten, because, while exhibiting the cruelty of despotic power, against which the world now rises in judgment, they show how his fidelity was tried, as also that of his family. The wife, becoming ill, was refused permission to leave the dungeon for medical advice at Vienna, excepton condition of not returning, when she beautifully declared, for herself and her daughters, that they had agreed to participate the rigors of his captivity, and now repeated, with all their hearts, that they were happier with him in the dungeon than they could be anywhere else without him. Lafayette himself, when tempted by offer of release on certain conditions or promises, was stern as his jailer, and refused inexorably,—choosing to suffer, sooner than compromise in any respect his rights and duties as Frenchman or as American citizen, which latter title he always claimed.
Vain, during this long period, was every effort for his liberation. Not Fox, thundering in the British Parliament,—not the gentler voice of Wilberforce, uniting with Fox,—not Cornwallis, his old enemy at Yorktown, personally pleading with the Emperor himself,[104]—not Washington, prompting our Ministers abroad and writing directly to the Emperor, could open these prison doors.[105]Lafayette was declared to be a representative not only of the French Revolution, but of Universal Enfranchisement, whose liberty was incompatible with the safety of European governments: therefore must he be immured in a dungeon. But private enterprise, inspired by those generous promptings which are theglory of the human heart, for a moment seemed about to prevail. This was before the arrival of his wife and daughters. The health of the imprisoned champion had suffered to such degree, that, under medical direction, the rigors of confinement were relaxed so far as to allow occasional exercise in the open air. Here was an opportunity for which two friends, Bollmann, a German, and Huger, an American, of South Carolina, had watched for months, and they were able secretly to apprise the captive of their plans. With their assistance, after desperate conflict, in which his hand was torn to the bone, he succeeded in disarming the guards, and then enjoyed a gleam of liberty. It was a gleam only. Helped on a horse by one of his devoted friends, he started; but, ignorant of the way, and oppressed with fatigue, wounded, bleeding, after a flight of twenty-four hours, he was recaptured, brought back, and plunged again into the worst torments of his dungeon. This endeavor, though unsuccessful, is never read without a gush of gratitude towards the courageous men, who, taking life in hand, braved Austrian tyranny. Human nature seems more beautiful from their example.[106]
All had now failed, and the dungeon seemed to have closed upon Lafayette forever. The hearts of his friends were wrung with anguish, and especially here in America. Washington, at the fireside of Mount Vernon, shed tears for his friend,—while to that noble wife, who in all things was not less faithful than her heroic husband, he addressed an earnest letter, regretting that he had not words to convey his feelings, and placing a considerable sum of money to her credit, which he mentionedas the least he was indebted for services, of which he had never yet received an account.[107]But an intervention was at hand which would not be denied. It was the early sword of Napoleon Bonaparte, which, flashing across the Alps from his Italian victories, broke open the dungeon of Olmütz. Lafayette had been a captive five years,—his wife and daughters shut up with him twenty-two months. In the negotiations ending in the Treaty of Campo Formio, it was required, under special instructions from the French Directory, that he should be released; and the conqueror was heard to say afterwards, that, among all the sacrifices exacted of tottering Austria, not one was so difficult to obtain. The captive of many years, at last in the enjoyment of liberty, hastened to Hamburg, where he found welcome with the American consul.
This was in the autumn of 1797, and he was forty years of age. But life with him, though brief in years, had been extended by events full of lessons never to be forgotten; above all was that great lesson of perpetual fealty to Human Rights. And now this same lesson was illustrated again. As in dungeon, so in exile, Lafayette could not forget the cause to which his life was devoted, especially the liberty of the African. From the obscure retreat in Holstein, where he lingered, he addresses Clarkson, the English Abolitionist, in eloquent words, against the Slave-Trade, which was still the scandal of nations, and announces that the mission of France, while healing the wounds of the past, should be to assureLiberty for all, whether white or black, under the equal protection of Law.[108]Better far such mission thanbattle and conquest, which this ambitious nation craved. In a letter to Washington at the same time he gives utterance to his aspiration, that, for the good of the world, the North and the South should gradually adopt the principles on which the Independence and the Liberty of the United States have been happily founded.[109]How in thinking of himself Lafayette thought instinctively of the slave appears in an incident of exile at this time. In the straitened circumstances to which he was reduced, stripped of the wealth to which he was born, poor and homeless, his thoughts turned to the broad continent across the Atlantic, and he conceived the plan of buying a farm,—although without what he denominates “the first dollar” necessary,—either in Virginia, not far from what he calls the “Federal City,” or in New England, not far from Boston,—and thus, in one of those tender letters to his wife, he balances between these two places. “I am aware, dear Adrienne,” he writes, under date of 5th August, 1799, “that I, who complain of the serfs of Holstein, as something very melancholy to a friend of Liberty, should find in the valley of the Shenandoah negro slaves; for Equality, which in the Northern States is for everybody, exists in the Southern States for the whites only. Therefore, while I perceive all the reasons which should draw us to the neighborhood of Mount Vernon and the seat of the Federal Union, yet I should prefer New England.”[110]Never more simply or conclusively was the special difference between North and South presented for judgment.
Regaining his country at last, while the outlawry,though a dead letter, was not formally annulled, he withdrew to the retirement of Lagrange, where, surrounded by his family, he maintained unsullied the integrity of his great character,—turning aside from all temptation, and never for a moment swerving from completest devotion to that cause for which he had done and suffered so much. Others accepted office and honor; he would not. Bonaparte wished to make him Senator; Lafayette declined, as he afterwards declined the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor from the same hand. Always himself, he touched the key-note of his life, when, in a brief address to his fellow-citizens, on refusing a post of dignity in 1802, he announced his hope that the miracles of battle then surprising them might be followed not only by peace abroad, but by domestic tranquillity founded on the immutable principles of Justice. At no moment is he more exemplary in firmness than when on the proposition that Bonaparte should be Consul for life he openly voted “No,” and added, “I cannot vote for such a magistracy, until Liberty has been sufficiently guarantied.”[111]In a noble letter[112]he pleads with the successful warrior for the re-establishment of Liberty, saying that all things combine to fit him for this great work, which shall subdue danger and calm distrust. Bonaparte did not hearken to these words of patriot wisdom, but drove still further in mad career. Lafayette, withdrawing yet more into the repose of private life, avoided a contest, which he foresaw must be futile, with a ruler having claims upon his gratitude which he never ceased to acknowledge.