From a photograph by Norman L. Coe & Son. The Council at Hopewell. This bas-relief, by the sculptor J.E. Kelly, appears on the Monmouth Battle Monument.It shows a conference of Washington and his generals. Lafayette is shown standing opposite to Washington.From a photograph by Norman L. Coe & Son.The Council at Hopewell.This bas-relief, by the sculptor J.E. Kelly, appears on the Monmouth Battle Monument.It shows a conference of Washington and his generals.Lafayette is shown standing opposite to Washington.
From a photograph by Norman L. Coe & Son.
The Council at Hopewell.
This bas-relief, by the sculptor J.E. Kelly, appears on the Monmouth Battle Monument.It shows a conference of Washington and his generals.Lafayette is shown standing opposite to Washington.
Finally, Washington turned to General Wayne (behind Greene) and said,
"Well, General, what wouldyoudo?"
"Fight, Sir!" crisply replied the ardent and indomitable Wayne—an answer that pleased alike the commander in chief and the young volunteer major general, to whom it seemed an intolerable insult that a hostile army should be allowed to march through one's own country unchallenged.
General Lee was determined that the British should be allowed to pass through New Jersey without molestation. His sympathies were afterwards found to have been entirely with the British. At any rate, Washington did not follow his advice. He sent out men to fell trees in the enemy's path, to burn bridges before them, and to harass them as much as possible; and he forwarded detachments of such size that he needed a major general to take command of that branch of his army. The position was offered first to General Lee. He refused to take it. General Washington was then free to offer it to Lafayette, who accepted it with delight.
As these plans were being matured, General Lee suddenly changed his mind and announced that he would take command of the advance force; and he appealed to Lafayette's generosity to allow him to do so, even after having once given his refusal. Lafayette unselfishly resigned the command. It is the opinion of historians that the outcome of the battle of Monmouth would have been very different if the American side had been left in the capable hands of the young Lafayette.
The battle of Monmouth, which took place on the 28th of June, was widely scattered in its action over a hot and sandy plain. The outcome was that General Lee first brought his troops face to face with the enemy, and then, instead of leading on to the attack, gave the order for retreat. Afterwards, in the court-martial of Lee, it was made evident that the movement of the troops as ordered by Lee would have left Lafayette and his detachment abandoned in an extremely exposed position on the open plain, the troops that should have supported him having been withdrawn by Lee's orders and directed to retreat. Lafayette and the other generals felt great bitterness on that day because they had been swept into battle but had not been allowed to strike a blow.
Everybody knows how Washington rode up, and when he saw the retreat, how he indignantly reproved General Lee and commanded the battalions to turn back and form in position for battle. Lafayette was in command of a division stationed at the second line under Lord Stirling who sustained the left wing; they were now placed on an eminence behind a morass and there played the batteries to such good effect that they were able to check the advance of the British. This halt gave Washington time to place his army to advantage. The British were driven from a strong position they had taken, and before dark the American troops had turned the British back. That night they lay upon the field in bright moonlight, and while Washington and Lafayette discussed the possible outcome of the next day, the British were silently withdrawing from the Monmouth plains. The next morning all had disappeared except some forty of their wounded. At Sandy Hook, where the British army crossed to New York, it was learned that they had lost about two thousand men by desertions and by losses at Monmouth. Many of the soldiers on both sides had died from the extreme heat on that 28th of June.
During the battle Lafayette was master of himself. Almost fifty years later, Colonel Willettrelated that in the hottest of the fight he saw Lafayette ride up to one of the officers and, in a voice cool, steady, and slow, and with as much deliberation as if nothing exciting prevailed, say,
"General, the enemy is making an attempt to cut off our right wing; march to his assistance with all your force."
So saying he galloped off. Colonel Willett remembered that he was exceedingly well mounted, though plainly dressed, and "very sedate in his air for a Frenchman."
A number of situations arose soon after this in which Lafayette found himself of great use. The French fleet under Count d'Estaing appeared near Delaware Bay and sailed up the coast. Washington was at White Plains. The British held New York. It was thought that the French fleet could accomplish much by going to Newport and there coöperating with the land forces. Lafayette was given a detachment and commanded to proceed to Providence where he was to stand ready to give all possible aid.
But he was doomed to still another disappointment. The French fleet arrived off Point Judith near Newport; visits of ceremony were exchanged by the French and American generals; preparations were made; but through misunderstandings,the plans never worked out to an actual engagement. Before anything was accomplished, a severe storm overtook the fleet, and it withdrew to Boston for necessary repairs.
During this trying time, Lafayette was a trusted resource to Washington, who devoutly wished to reconcile all differences and to bring peace out of dissension. For this Lafayette had peculiar qualities, as he understood the character of both the French and the Americans, and believed absolutely in the good intentions of the officers on both sides. Twice he rode to Boston and back again to help in settling some difficulty, making on one of those occasions a journey of seventy miles, at night, in six and a half hours—a feat paralleled only by Sheridan's famous ride to Winchester.
But the fleet sailed away, bearing many disappointments with it, though much good had been done by its coming; it meant that the American cause had received definite encouragement from France.
It was now October of 1778 and autumn weather was closing the campaign of the year. The sending of the French fleet to our shores had been virtually a declaration that a state of war existed between France and England, and the thought that this might develop into an actual war in whichLafayette, after his practical experience and training in the Continental army, could take part and win glory, inclined him strongly at this point to return to his native land. Permission was given to him to do this. The proper farewells, official and private, were made, and Lafayette started on his way to Boston where he was to embark.
But the strain of the summer's excitement and overwork had been too much for Lafayette, and at Fishkill he was taken ill with a violent fever which prostrated him for some weeks. The greatest concern was felt for his life; the soldiers' love for him was shown by their great solicitude, and General Washington called upon him every day.
Lafayette slowly recovered and finally resumed his journey to Boston, where he went on board theAlliancewhich the government had given him to take him to France. At the moment of sailing he sent a letter to General Washington, in which he said:
"Farewell, my dear General. I hope your French friends will ever be dear to you. I hope I shall soon see you again and tell you myself with what emotions I now leave the land you inhabit, and with what affection and respect I shall ever be your sincere friend."
"Farewell, my dear General. I hope your French friends will ever be dear to you. I hope I shall soon see you again and tell you myself with what emotions I now leave the land you inhabit, and with what affection and respect I shall ever be your sincere friend."
They set sail for Havre on the 11th of January, 1779. The voyage was not to be without adventure. They sailed into the teeth of a terrible three days' storm. Lafayette, as usual, was very seasick, and, as usual, was much discouraged thereby. For a time glory and fame had no charms for him! He declared he was surely going where he had wished to send all the English—namely, to the bottom of the sea!
Still worse was to follow. No sooner was the storm over than another danger loomed up. The ship's crew included a number of renegade English sailors who conspired to mutiny, to overwhelm the officers, and to kill the crew and passengers. By including in their confidence an American sailor, whom they mistook for an Irishman, their plot came to naught. Lafayette summoned the whole crew, put thirty-three mutineers in chains, and thus saved himself from capture and the ship from being towed into a British port as a prize. Shortly after this Lafayette brought the frigate into the harbor of Brest, where he had the pleasure of seeing, for the first time, the American flag receive the national salute as the symbol of an acknowledged sister nation in alliance with his native country.
WHEN Lafayette learned of the birth of his little daughter Anastasie, whom he now ardently desired to see, he wrote to his wife:
"What expressions can my tenderness find sufficiently strong for our dear Anastasie? You will find them in your own heart, and in mine, which is equally open to you.... That poor little child must supply all that we have lost."
"What expressions can my tenderness find sufficiently strong for our dear Anastasie? You will find them in your own heart, and in mine, which is equally open to you.... That poor little child must supply all that we have lost."
Letters like this would give great consolation to Madame de Lafayette, but alas, they came at long intervals, since many of her husband's long epistles never reached her. Therefore Adrienne felt his absence the more keenly, while rumors and exaggerated reports from America made her days an agony. When, however, he returned to France in February, 1779, her happiness was beyond all expression.
Adrienne's joy was increased by the fact that while her rash young husband had left his nativeland under a cloud, because it was understood that he did so against the command of the king, his return was that of a conqueror, triumphant and in favor.
He was not allowed, however, wholly to forget his formal error. His appeal to Adrienne for forgiveness for his absence was one that he had to make to others. His father-in-law testified in a letter that, so far as he was concerned, the recreant might be freely forgiven. Adrienne was only too willing to receive the one who had left her to go on a mission to the other side of the world; but what about the king whose command not to leave the shores of France he had practically disobeyed? Many a man had been shut up in the Bastille because of a much smaller offense.
Lafayette was brought to the court at Versailles by his relative, the Prince de Poix. The king received him and graciously accorded a punishment. He was to suffer imprisonment for the space ofone week—his prison to be the grand residence of his father-in-law, the Hôtel de Noailles! After that his pardon was to be freely granted by his Majesty, with this warning—that he should avoid public places for a time lest the people should manifest their admiration for his disobedient conduct by their applause.
The king's warning was not indeed without reason. But there was no use in trying to keep the impressionable French people from worshiping a hero after their hearts had been captured by him. The gallantry and the human-heartedness of Lafayette, as well as the ideals he held—ideals that were becoming more and more captivating to the fancy and to the reason of the French nation—contributed to make him the favorite of the hour. A passage from a certain play never failed to receive enthusiastic applause from the audiences because it was held by all to be susceptible of direct application to Lafayette; and this passage the queen copied in her own hand because she thought of him when she read it. It dwelt upon the union of mature and youthful qualities in a character, and ran as follows:
"Why talk of youthWhen all the ripe experience of the oldDwells with him? In his schemes profound and coolHe acts with wise precaution, and reservesFor times of action, his impetuous fire.To guard the camp, to scale the 'leaguered wall,Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toilsThat suit the impetuous bearing of his youth;Yet like the gray-haired veteran he can shunThe field of peril. Still before my eyesI place his bright example, for I loveHis lofty courage, and his prudent thought;Gifted like him, a warrior has no age."
"Why talk of youthWhen all the ripe experience of the oldDwells with him? In his schemes profound and coolHe acts with wise precaution, and reservesFor times of action, his impetuous fire.To guard the camp, to scale the 'leaguered wall,Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toilsThat suit the impetuous bearing of his youth;Yet like the gray-haired veteran he can shunThe field of peril. Still before my eyesI place his bright example, for I loveHis lofty courage, and his prudent thought;Gifted like him, a warrior has no age."
The queen's copy of this passage was given to Madame de Campan, the revered teacher of the young ladies of the court, and it met the fate of being burned on the very day Marie Antoinette's sad life came to an end at the hands of the executioner during the height of the Terror.
The queen had shown her interest in Lafayette's arrival by arranging to have an interview with the young hero when he was making his first visit to Versailles. At her suggestion Lafayette was now advanced by the king to be commander of an important regiment in the army of France, the king's own Dragoons. He was stationed at Saintes and afterwards at St. Jean-d'Angely, near Rochefort, where the regiment was conveniently quartered to be ready in case a project for the invasion of England by way of the British Channel should be carried out. Such a plan was under consideration, and Lafayette looked forward with delight to the prospect of action against the country which he considered the ancient foe of France.
But, to Lafayette's great grief, the plot to invade England failed; and he was now free to return to Paris and Versailles. The failure of the British plan also made it rather easier for the minds ofprominent officials to look toward taking some further part in the American struggle. To aid this Lafayette gladly applied himself; for while loyal always to his own nation, and standing ready at any point to leave all to serve France, he had not for a moment forgotten the needs of his adopted country across the Atlantic. In fact, when he reached home, he had not waited for his one week's punishment to be over before beginning to create interest in the cause for which he had risked his life. Benjamin Franklin, then ambassador to the court of France from the United States, was promptly allowed, under pretense of calling upon Lafayette's father-in-law, to visit Lafayette himself.
There was a constant stream of callers coming to see and congratulate him, and never was there one among them who was permitted to misunderstand the fact that Lafayette wished to move heaven and earth to secure help for the Continental army in its struggle for freedom. He found himself, in a more important sense than ever before, the tie between France and America, for he enjoyed the confidence of both countries.
To Washington he wrote: "If there is anything in France concerning which not only as a soldier but as a politician, or in any other capacity, I canemploy my exertions to the advantage of the United States, I hope it is unnecessary to say that I shall seize the opportunity and bless the day which shall render me useful to those whom I love with all the ardor and frankness of my heart."
General Washington, on his part, wrote to Lafayette in this wise:
"It gives me infinite pleasure to hear from your sovereign of the joy that your safe arrival in France has diffused among your friends.... Your forward zeal in the cause of liberty, your singular attachment to this infant world, your ardent and persevering efforts not only in America, but since your return to France, to serve the United States, your polite attentions to Americans, and your strict and uniform friendship for me, have ripened the first impressions of esteem and attachment which I imbibed for you into such perfect love and gratitude, as neither time nor absence can impair. This will warrant my assuring you that whether in the character of an officer at the head of a corps of gallant Frenchmen if circumstances should require this, whether as major-general commanding a division of the American army, or whether, after our swords and spears have given place to the plowshare and pruning-hook, I see you as a private gentleman, a friend and companion, I shallwelcome you with all the warmth of friendship to Columbia's shores; and in the latter case, to my rural cottage, where homely fare and a cordial reception shall be substituted for delicacies and costly living. This, from past experience, I know you can submit to; and if the lovely partner of your happiness will consent to participate with us in such rural entertainments and amusements, I can undertake on behalf of Mrs. Washington that she will do all in her power to make Virginia agreeable to the Marchioness. My inclination and endeavors to do this cannot be doubted, when I assure you that I love everybody that is dear to you."
"It gives me infinite pleasure to hear from your sovereign of the joy that your safe arrival in France has diffused among your friends.... Your forward zeal in the cause of liberty, your singular attachment to this infant world, your ardent and persevering efforts not only in America, but since your return to France, to serve the United States, your polite attentions to Americans, and your strict and uniform friendship for me, have ripened the first impressions of esteem and attachment which I imbibed for you into such perfect love and gratitude, as neither time nor absence can impair. This will warrant my assuring you that whether in the character of an officer at the head of a corps of gallant Frenchmen if circumstances should require this, whether as major-general commanding a division of the American army, or whether, after our swords and spears have given place to the plowshare and pruning-hook, I see you as a private gentleman, a friend and companion, I shallwelcome you with all the warmth of friendship to Columbia's shores; and in the latter case, to my rural cottage, where homely fare and a cordial reception shall be substituted for delicacies and costly living. This, from past experience, I know you can submit to; and if the lovely partner of your happiness will consent to participate with us in such rural entertainments and amusements, I can undertake on behalf of Mrs. Washington that she will do all in her power to make Virginia agreeable to the Marchioness. My inclination and endeavors to do this cannot be doubted, when I assure you that I love everybody that is dear to you."
Such a visit as this the Marchioness was never to pay. And we can not blame her if, during her husband's brief visits, she felt like complaining that he absorbed himself in the interests of the American cause or was always planning fresh enterprises. But though she was now only nineteen years old, she was proving herself the high-minded woman who could sympathize entirely with her husband's ideals, and who could consider him dedicated to a great cause; therefore she could cheerfully lay aside merely selfish wishes. No one ever heard a complaint from her absolutely loyal lips. In December, 1779, the family wasmade happy by the birth of a son, to whom, in honor of his illustrious friend, Lafayette gave the name of George Washington.
Lafayette had many testimonials from his friends in the United States showing their appreciation of his efforts for them; and among them was one of special import. It consisted of a sword richly ornamented, with a handle of solid gold, sent to him by the American Congress. To Franklin was intrusted the pleasant task of providing this rich gift. It was made in Paris and was engraved with representations of the actions in which Lafayette had taken part, together with his coat of arms, his chosen motto "Cur non?" and other emblematic designs selected by Franklin; and Franklin's grandson had the honor of conveying to Lafayette this testimonial of a nation's appreciation.
"By the help of the exquisite artists of France," graciously wrote Franklin in an accompanying letter, "I find it easy to express everything but the sense we have of your worth."
Lafayette may have been in a fair way to be spoiled, but if he was he had a happy way of concealing it. He answered, "In some of the devices I cannot help finding too honorable a reward for those slight services which, in concert with myfellow-soldiers, and under the god-like American hero's orders, I had the good fortune to render."
This beautiful sword was in the course of time to meet with ill luck. When Revolutionists rifled the Château de Chaviniac, it was buried for safe-keeping and remained thus hidden for many years. Long afterwards Lafayette's son, George Washington Lafayette, grown to young manhood, unearthed the treasure and found that the blade was totally rusted away. Lafayette then had the happy thought of adjusting to this handle of pure gold the blade of a sword that had been made out of bolts and bars taken from the Bastille. Thus the associations of both worlds and of two struggles for freedom were united in one historic sword.
There came a time when Lafayette felt himself warranted in presenting a Memoir to the Cabinet on the subject of giving direct relief to America. His plan, from a military standpoint, was masterly, and it produced so favorable an impression that it was accepted; and it soon became known to those worthy to be in the secret that France would send to America a reinforcement of six ships and six thousand men of the regular infantry. To this was added a loan of three million livres, and later still, through the appeals of Franklin, another loan of the same amount was supplied. The Countde Rochambeau, a trained soldier, was chosen to command the land forces and the Count de Ternay was to be admiral of the fleet. Lafayette was sent ahead to announce this happy news and to make preparations for the arrival of the expedition.
Wearing the uniform of an American officer, Lafayette took his leave of the king; and on the 4th of March, 1780, he sailed on the frigateHermione. He reached Boston harbor on the 28th of April, 1780, after an absence of fifteen months. When word swept through the city that a ship was coming in with Lafayette on board, the people crowded to the wharf to welcome the returning French friend of America. This was the beginning of civic processions in Lafayette's honor. They cheered him from the ship's side to the residence of Governor Hancock where addresses were listened to and congratulations exchanged. He called upon the Legislature then in session, and in the evening viewed the illuminations in his honor. Lafayette gave a dinner on board the ship to which he invited a large number of officials—the president of the Massachusetts Council, members of the legislature, the consul of France, and other men of dignity. The frigate was gayly decorated with the flags of many nations. Thirteen toastswere drunk—the number thirteen cannot have been an unlucky number in those days!—and after the toast to Washington the great guns boomed seventeen times.
As rapidly as possible Lafayette rode to Washington's headquarters at Morristown, New Jersey, and made his happy announcement to the General himself. He then pressed on to Philadelphia to present to Congress the communication from the French government. He bore also a letter from Washington, in which the commander in chief introduced Lafayette as one who had "signally distinguished himself in the service of this country," and who, during the time that he had been in France, had "uniformly manifested the same zeal in our affairs which animated his conduct while he was among us"; who had been "on all occasions an essential friend to America."
The greatest possible effort was now made to equip the Continental army, but the resources of the country had already been grievously overtaxed. Washington had hardly been able to keep his army together at all. Half of his six thousand men were unfit for duty. They had sometimes had no bread for six days; sometimes for two or three days they would have neither meat nor bread. The commander clearly realized that anarmy reduced to nothing, without provisions or any of the necessary means to carry on a war, needed not a little help only—it needed a great deal.
When, on the 2d of May, the French fleet finally set sail, delays had reduced the number of soldiers and the amount of supplies. The English by this time had realized what was happening, and they carefully blockaded the second division of the squadron in the harbor of Brest; and when the first division reached Newport, the English cleverly surrounded the harbor with their ships, thus "bottling up" the French and rendering them inactive and useless. In this way the great good that was expected from the French expedition came to naught.
During all this trying time, Lafayette acted the part of a single-minded friend of both the French and the American armies. He was sent by Washington to Newport to confer with the French generals, and later he was present at a joint meeting of the great French and American generals which was held at Hartford, Connecticut. Lafayette rode from one army to the other, holding conferences and putting important decisions into writing, or dictating the results of conversations. Many of these documents have been preserved in French or American state archives.
Whatever time he could get apart from these labors he spent in training the battalion that had been assigned to him. This was a detachment of light infantry, selected from the best of the army. He took great pride in training these men, sent to France for black and white plumes for their caps, and tried to make them present as good an appearance as possible. The Marquis de Chastellux, who visited his camp on the Ramapo River, has left a delightful description of this visit in which he spoke of the fine appearance of the troops as their young commander had drawn them up on a height near his own station. Here, said Chastellux, Lafayette received his guest with more pride than if he had been entertaining at his estates in Auvergne. "Happy his country," said Chastellux, "if she employs his services; happier still if she has no use for them!"
It was during this autumn that Benedict Arnold made what Lafayette called that "horrid compact with the enemy"—an event that amazed and distressed him beyond any words. Lafayette was with Washington when the plot was discovered. He was also a member of the board to try the British spy, André. His attitude toward André was very different from that toward Benedict Arnold. André, he said, conducted himself in a manner sofrank, so noble, and so delicate, that he could not help feeling infinite sorrow for him.
The winter of 1780-81 was the darkest period of the war. But it was to be followed by a happier season, one in which Lafayette was at last to have as large a share of action as his heart could wish.
THE British still held the city of New York. General Washington's army sat in their impregnable camps on the Hudson and along the Delaware, where he could reach out a hand to New England on the east, and to Philadelphia on the south, at the same time threatening now and then the stronghold of the British. Meantime an active campaign was being carried on in the states south of Virginia. At the battle of Charleston the brave General Lincoln and his gallant army were compelled by the British to lay down their arms and give themselves up as prisoners of war without the usual courtesies. The ceremony of surrender was particularly galling. Forbidden by their conquerors to play a British or a Hessian air, they marched to the joyous melody of "Yankee Doodle," their colors cased, and their hearts rebellious. The battle of Camden was another defeat for the Americans. On that disastrousday fell the companion of Lafayette's first voyage, the Baron de Kalb, who died bravely after receiving no less than eleven wounds. Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander in the south, thought that defeats like these would finish the question for that part of the country, so he gave out proclamations of amnesty to the tractable and built scaffolds to hang the unsubmissive. But the south was not to be so easily subdued. The British met with defeat at King's Mountain, and in October, 1780, General Greene was sent to push the southern campaign more vigorously.
One result of these southern disasters was to make the importance of Virginia increasingly evident as a base for operations in the Carolinas. Cornwallis saw this and he determined to reduce that state, to cut off the southern army from its base, and thus to control the approaches to the heart of the country. Accordingly, in January, 1781, he sent Benedict Arnold, who had been made a brigadier general in the British army, with a strong force, and with two trusted British colonels, to conduct a campaign in that state.
If the British commander in chief had wished to fill the men of the Continental army with a fire that would make them unconquerable, this was the way to do it, and this was the man againstwhom they most desired to fight. On the other hand, General Washington chose a leader for the defense who was so well beloved by his men, and who was himself filled with so fiery an enthusiasm for the cause, that this alone would have been enough to bring into effect all the strength of those drained and exhausted men and to energize them for prodigies of valor. This leader was Lafayette. In February, 1781, he was commissioned to go against Arnold.
Lafayette was glad to be trusted with a command and overjoyed at the prospect of action. But he still believed that the great final blow was to be struck at New York and he was most reluctant to be separated from Washington with whom he intensely longed to be when the great climax came. However, he obeyed orders with perfect alacrity and planned for a swift march in order to intercept any efforts on the part of Arnold to obtain access to the various storehouses and river crossings in Virginia. Leaving under guard his tents, artillery, and everything that could be spared, with orders to follow as rapidly as possible, he marched his men through heavy rains and over bad roads.
The Virginia campaign, says a French historian, is to be ranked among the classic tales of alltime; and in this campaign the young Lafayette was the most notable leader. It was on the 6th of April, 1781, that General Washington wrote to Lafayette, giving him full instructions, which led him into the midst of active service.
Lafayette's detachment included men from New Jersey, from New Hampshire, and from other New England states. Among them were some of the men who had been willing to take their lives in their hands and follow their young leader on the hazardous expedition into Canada. Although the men had no idea at this time what was before them, they were now going to follow Lafayette to the glory that he so ardently desired.
But in spite of the splendid spirit of the troops, Lafayette found that they were in sore need of encouragement. They saw that they were not going toward the grand final attack; they were not used to the blind obedience exacted from trained European troops; and they did not understand this discouraging southward move.
Fearing that the summer would be wasted, Lafayette thought of a device to strengthen the tie between himself and his detachment. He wrote it down in the order of the day that they were about to start out on an expedition that would tax all a soldier's powers, and in which there wouldbe abundant dangers and difficulties. The enemy, he said, was far superior to them in numbers, thoroughly despised them, and was determined to conquer them. He added that no soldier should accompany him who was inclined to abandon him; nor was it necessary that any one should desert; for any man could, if he desired, have a pass and be sent to join his regiment in winter quarters.
This method of approach had more than the desired effect. Lafayette soon wrote to Washington: "Our men are in high spirits. Their honor was interested, and murmurs as well as desertions are entirely out of fashion."
Soon after the advent of Lafayette in the Virginia field, he came into contact with Benedict Arnold in a very curious way. The commander of the opposing British forces had died, and Arnold took his place. About that time Arnold sent a message under a flag of truce to Lafayette. When Lafayette learned that the letter which was brought in was from the traitor, he returned it unopened, sending a verbal message stating that with Benedict Arnold he would hold no communication whatever. Later he sent a formal letter to the officer that had brought the flag, in which he declined all correspondence with Arnold, but addedwith the utmost courtesy that "in case any other British officer should honour him with a letter, he would always be happy to give the officers every testimony of esteem."
The subject of the letter from Arnold was an exchange of prisoners, a matter that interested him extremely, as he well knew that Lafayette could hardly have pleased the American people better than by presenting Benedict Arnold to them a prisoner. We know that Arnold's mind dwelt on this aspect of his sad situation from the fact that he once quizzed a captured American to find out what the Americans would do with him if they took him prisoner. The soldier audaciously replied that they would "cut off the leg that had been wounded in the country's service and hang the rest of him!" Lafayette's action in regard to the letter from Arnold was very gratifying to Washington; he said that in nothing had Lafayette pleased him more than in refusing to hold communication with Benedict Arnold.
Soon after this Arnold was transferred to New York, and Cornwallis came forward with reënforcements, declaring that he would now "proceed to dislodge Lafayette from Richmond." The struggle between the young French officer (not yet twenty-four years old) in his first attemptat carrying on an independent campaign, and the veteran British commander with years of service behind him, was now taken up with more spirit than ever before. It was the crisis of the Revolution. If the Continental army could only hold out a little longer, it might be possible, by adroit advance and diplomatic retreat, to avoid unequal battles until the foe was worn out or until some favorable opportunity should arise for a direct attack. Cornwallis, of course, despised his exhausted enemy. A letter from him was intercepted and brought into the American camp; in the letter he said, "The Boy cannot escape me!" Lafayette's face must have been set in very grim lines when he read that letter.
Technically, Lafayette had been taking orders from General Greene whose command was in the south and included Virginia. But on the 18th of May, Lafayette was ordered to take the entire command in Virginia and to send all reports directly to General Washington. "The Boy's" letters to Colonel Hamilton show that he fully recognized the gravity of affairs, the responsibility of his position, and the dangers of his own over-enthusiastic spirit. The British command of the adjacent waters, the superiority of their cavalry, and the great disproportion in the forces of the twoarmies, gave the enemy such advantages that Lafayette dared not venture to engage the British. The British generals thoroughly understood what they called Lafayette's "gasconading disposition," and they relied upon it to work woe to his plans and to contribute to their own glory. His prudence disappointed them as much as it satisfied Washington who had said of Lafayette, "This noble soldier combines all the military fire of youth with an unusual maturity of judgment." Lafayette desired to be worthy of this high praise.
On April 29, Lafayette and his light infantry reached Richmond in time to prevent its capture and to protect the supplies that had been concentrated there. In the battle at Green Spring his bravery led him once more to plunge into the thick of the fight, losing his horse (some reports say two horses) which was shot under him or by his side.
In Wayne's official report on that battle he said that "Lafayette was frequently requested to keep at a greater distance, but his native bravery rendered him deaf to the admonition."
He compelled the admiration of his opponents by his skill in defensive maneuvers. The "Boy" obeyed his commander in chief, and he succeeded in misleading his foe, for Cornwallis believed that the American force was larger than it actuallywas; he also believed that he could break down the loyalty of the inhabitants of Pennsylvania and of Virginia. In both these points he was direfully mistaken. But Lafayette had high respect for Cornwallis as a general. "His Lordship plays so well," he complained, "that no blunder can be hoped from him to recover a bad step of ours."
Finally, reënforcements did come to Lafayette. In despair the American Congress sent a special messenger express to Paris to bear one more urgent appeal for help. Washington wrote, "We are at the end of our tether; ... now or never our deliverance must come."
Impetuous young John Laurens was chosen to be this Ambassador Extraordinary to France. Laurens was greatly admired and loved by Lafayette and he recommended him to the affections of his noble relatives in Paris. At the moment Laurens's father was being held a prisoner by the British in the Tower of London—a fact that no doubt quickened the zeal of the son. At all events, he was successful in his mission. The French fleet in the West Indies was ordered to the United States and the king himself became surety for several millions of livres in addition to what had already been sent to our aid.
The time was coming when Lafayette could begin to move the British army before him little by little down the York River toward Yorktown, a method of procedure that now became, as the British reports described it, the "constant and good policy of the enemy." On the 24th of September, 1781, Cornwallis proceeded to occupy Yorktown and to strengthen it against attack.
The city of Yorktown is situated near the entrance to Chesapeake Bay. At that place two rivers enter the bay, the York and the James, and upon a conspicuous bluff on the northern side of the neck of land between them stood this small town.
Cornwallis began at once to prepare the place for assault. Around the village he built a series of fortifications consisting of seven redoubts and six batteries on the land side, and these he connected by intrenchments. He placed a line of batteries on the river bank to command the channel, and he established outworks to impede the approach of the enemy. Lafayette saw all this and rejoiced, for he believed that Cornwallis was at last where he most desired to have him—in a place where he would be open to attack, and with some hope of success. All the country around Yorktown was now familiar to Lafayette. Heknew every inch of the land, the river, the morass, and the commanding hill. "Should a fleet come in at this moment, affairs would take a very happy turn," he wrote joyfully to General Washington.
On the 30th of August the French fleet, under the Count de Grasse, with twenty-eight ships of the line, appeared in the waters of Chesapeake Bay; a few days later the Marquis de Saint Simon, field marshal in the French army, debarked a large reënforcement of French troops; and on the 4th of September Lafayette moved nearer to Yorktown and took a position with the troops he could bring together,—his own light infantry, the militia, and the reënforcements at Williamsburg, a town in the vicinity of the British position.
Nothing now remained but the arrival of General Washington himself to take charge of the whole enterprise, and Lafayette's happiness was complete when, on the 14th of September, he resigned his command into the hands of his revered General.
IT is September, 1781. The "Boy" has not been caught. He is encamped at Williamsburg, and looks toward his powerful enemy who is surrounded by well-devised intrenchments at Yorktown, twelve miles down the river.
The American and French troops, fifteen or sixteen thousand in number, arrived and took their places. General Washington was in supreme command. America had never before seen such an army. The Americans had done their utmost. That part of the French army that had come down from Connecticut with Rochambeau had astonished the people of Philadelphia as they marched through the city by the brilliancy of their rose-and-violet-faced uniforms, and by the display of their graceful and accurate military movements. Now they were to have an opportunity to show whether their warlike spirit was expressed chiefly in ruffles and tinsel trimmings, or whether they could win fame by more solid qualities.
On the 29th of September the combined American and French armies moved southward to a point about four miles from the town. There they divided into two columns and the Americans defiled to the right, the French to the left. They then proceeded to arrange themselves around the town in an irregular semicircle that extended from the river bank at the west to the shore on the southeast, a distance of about two miles. Toward the southern side were ranged the various American regiments under Baron Steuben and General Wayne; and next to these stood what was called the Light Infantry corps under Lafayette. He had ventured to suggest to General Washington that he wished his division might be composed of the troops that had been with him through the fatigues and dangers of the Virginia campaign; this, he said, would be the greatest reward he could have for the services he might have rendered, as he had now the strongest attachment for those troops. Still another division stood at the extreme right. This was under the command of General Lincoln, who had been forced, through no fault of his own, to surrender to the British at Charleston.
The approaches to Yorktown were easy; there were means of shelter everywhere, and the American army at once began preparations for the siege.
At last the men finished the construction of two parallels. They were now within three hundred yards of the British defenses. General Washington then placed his siege guns in position. It was the first week in October, 1781. On the sixth the siege began.
Every point in this dramatic history has been made the subject of story or poem, and naturally some legendary quality would after a time irradiate the incidents. Thus some writers affirm that General Washington gave the order for the first shot, and some say that it was Lafayette. The story is this. Before signing the order, General Washington turned to Thomas Nelson who was both governor of Virginia and a general in the army, and inquired,
"At what object shall this gun be fired?"
Pointing to his own dwelling where the roof appeared above the trees of Yorktown, and where it was understood Cornwallis had his headquarters, General Nelson answered,
"There is my house; aim at that!"
The story is that Washington turned to the gunner and said,
"For every shot you cause to hit that house, I will give you five guineas."
From the 6th to the 10th of October, the firefrom the allied American and French army increased daily in vigor. On the 11th the second parallel was completed and entered, and the besieging line was thus tightened and strengthened. Within their intrenchments the British were watching for reënforcements that were fated never to come.
On the 14th of October it was found that the British held two redoubts whose guns were inconveniently active, and the Americans believed they must be silenced. The redoubts had been built on two small hills on the American right, in a difficult region where rocky cuts alternated with swampy depressions. These two hills were called "Number Nine" and "Number Ten"; "Number Ten" was also called "Rock Redoubt." These redoubts were about three hundred yards in front of the British garrison, and Washington decided after consultation that they were of sufficient importance to take by storm.
Accordingly the order was given. The reduction of Redoubt Number Nine was intrusted to a group of French grenadiers and chasseurs. Rock Redoubt stood nearest the river; this was assigned to Lafayette with his American regiments.
Important among the men under General Lafayette's command was Lieutenant Colonel deGimat, the French aid who had always been so faithful a follower of Lafayette; he commanded a body of men from Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Then there was Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton, the young American to whom Lafayette was personally so warmly attached, who afterwards was to become one of the most distinguished servants of the new nation, and who was to meet so strange and sad an end after his great work was done.
When Hamilton heard a rumor that General Washington was intending to give to a certain Colonel Barber the opportunity to lead the attack, his spirit was immediately aroused. Without a moment's delay he hastened to headquarters and warmly urged his right to the honorable and dangerous task. He gained his point and returned in a state of exuberant satisfaction, exclaiming to his major, "We have it! We have it!" So Lafayette assigned Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton to lead the advance corps, to be assisted by Colonel de Gimat. In all there were four hundred men under Lafayette for this storming adventure.
It was eight o'clock on the evening of October 14. The storming of the two redoubts had been carefully planned even down to the least details;but so energetic was the work of the men, so dashing was their valor, that when the time really came, the attack lasted but a few minutes.
Lafayette's redoubt was taken in a mere flash of time—in less than ten minutes, some close observers said; others made it eight minutes. The six shells, the signal agreed upon, were fired. The men started the march. Rock Redoubt loomed before them in the thick dusk of twilight. They advanced in good order with their bayonets fixed and in utter silence, as they had been commanded. But when the first volley of musketry came down from the top of the redoubt, they broke their silence and huzzaed with all their power. Then they rushed forward, charging with their bayonets as they ran, and in almost no time they were within the redoubt, with the defending officer and forty-five men their prisoners. Not a shot had been fired; and so swift was the action that few of the Americans were lost.
The not ungenerous rivalry between the groups of men who took the two redoubts is one of the most picturesque incidents of the American Revolution. If it had not been for the fact that the French detachment had paused to have the abatis cut through in regular order, they would probably have been in their redoubt before the Americansunder Lafayette were in theirs; for when they were once on the height, they occupied but six minutes in making themselves masters of their redoubt and in manning it again for action.
One move follows another quickly at such a time, and when Lafayette had entered his redoubt, he looked over the parapet and saw that the men on the other height were still struggling for the possession of theirs. It happened that a certain General Viomesnil had expressed a doubt as to the efficiency of the American troops, therefore Lafayette welcomed this opportunity to show their valor. He instantly sent an aid to announce to General Viomesnil, with a flourish of compliments, that the American troops were in possession of their redoubt and to say that if M. le Baron de Viomesnil desired any help, the Marquis de Lafayette would have great pleasure in assisting him! The Major sent word,
"Tell the Marquis that I am not in mine, but that I will be in five minutes."
This promise was made good by the brave and energetic French troops. Perhaps never before had the space of two minutes been of so much importance in the honor of two nations.
General Washington who, in his eagerness to see this important action, had ridden near,—toonear to please his officers and surgeons,—had closely watched the storming of the redoubts. When they were taken and the guns had been instantly whirled about to face the enemy, he turned to Generals Knox and Lincoln who stood near and said with emphasis,
"The work is done, and well done."
Then he mounted his horse and rode back to headquarters.
AT the siege of Yorktown much of the gallantry and glory of war was to be seen; but there was another side as well. The dwelling houses in ruin, the sufferings of the wounded men, the surgical operations, the amputations, the groans and sighs and homesickness, the dying gasps, the bodies of slain horses lying in the way—these also are war.
In Yorktown itself many houses were in flames. A sortie had been attempted and had failed. British reënforcements had not come. Supplies were giving out. The outlook seemed hopeless. The men fought without spirit. An attempt was made to escape by sea. It also failed. A violent storm drove the boats back to shore. The idea of surrender was entertained.
Consequently, on the 17th of October, General Cornwallis sent a note to General Washington asking for a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours, to settle terms for the surrender ofYorktown. Washington allowed two hours instead of twenty-four. Why waste any more time?
Interviews were immediately held, and a treaty of capitulation was framed.
When it was known that the British had yielded, a wave of the wildest joy spread through the American and French camps—and through the whole country as well. Messengers rode at top speed to Philadelphia to carry the good news. Congress was sitting there at the time. The rider came in at midnight. At one o'clock the watchers called "All's well," as usual, but added,
"Cornwallis is taken!"
Windows were opened and heads thrust out. The streets soon filled with rejoicing people. What Lafayette called "a good noisy feu de joie" followed.
The third article in the document of capitulation stated that the British troops should be required to march out to the place appointed in front of the posts, at two o'clock precisely, with shouldered arms, colors cased, and drums beating a British or a German march. They were then to ground their arms and return to their encampments. The same afternoon the works at Gloucester on the opposite side of the river were to be given up, the infantry to file out as prescribed for the garrison at York, and the cavalry to go forth with theirswords drawn and their trumpets sounding.
Over all this there had been a sharp discussion. The British wished to receive the "honors of war," that is, to go out with colors flying and drums beating; and the courteous Washington was inclined to grant this request. But Lafayette remembered the requirements the British had made at the defeat at Charleston. They had compelled the men to march out with colors cased, and had forbidden them to play a British or a Hessian air; and he thought that in fair retaliation the British army should now give up their arms in the manner required by them on that occasion. He suggested, however, one original variation,—that they should be not forbidden butrequiredto march to a British or a German air. Colonel Laurens was in accord with this. He had served at Charleston under General Lincoln, and he was only too glad to remind the British commissioners that it had been so arranged and required of the American troops after that defeat.
"The article remains or I cease to be a commissioner," the young man said firmly. The high-spirited Laurens could but remember that at that very moment his own father was still imprisoned in the Tower of London.
The condition remained; and at noon on the 19th of October the capitulation was signed. At one o'clock possession was taken of the enemies' works, and at two the garrison marched out.
A field about a mile and a half south of Yorktown was chosen for the ceremony. The scene was brilliant and spectacular. All the American soldiers were drawn up in a line on one side of the road and the French stood opposite with General Rochambeau, their commander in chief, leading their line. General Washington, mounted on his horse and attended by his aids, was at the head. Washington was ardently admired by all the French officers and they must have envied him his magnificent appearance in this fortunate hour. That fearless and austere commander, who had shared the sufferings and privations of his men in the dark night of Valley Forge, now rejoiced with them in the hour of accomplishment.
The French made a splendid appearance with their uniforms of bright colors and contrasting trimmings. Nearly all had the conventional three-cornered Revolutionary cap of blue; and the trousers were prevailingly of a lemon or canary yellow. Glittering orders were flashing on many uniforms, their banners were embroidered with golden lilies; each noble had his servants arrayedin silver-laced livery, and the French bands of many fifes, horns, and cymbals, played such music as was never heard before.
The American soldiers, who had inherited no traditions of either the glory or the disasters of warfare, could not compare with the foreigners in their full-dress display. But in every heart among them there was a feeling that richly compensated for the lack of feathers and facings. Whether shopkeeper or farmer or mighty hunter from the interior who stood in that line, the tide of united nationality ran higher in his heart than ever before. And every last man among them was one degree happier by having the dashing young French Major General, their beloved "Marquis," on the American side of the procession instead of in the foreign line. The "Boy" that Cornwallis was so certain he could catch was splendid that day in the perfection of military form. He sat, as always, very perfectly on his horse and he had the grace to be proud of the company in which he stood. As to his own regiment of Light Infantry, he had always been fond of decorating them with finery. They appeared now in dark leather leggins and white trousers; their blue coats had white facings and white cuffs; and a blue feather stood up in front of the cap andwaved over the crown. This was the regulation uniform for them, but perhaps, having just gone through the severities of their Virginia campaign, they were not able to "live up" to their fine clothes. However, nothing mattered on that great day.
A vast concourse of American spectators was present to witness the surrender, but their desire to see Lord Cornwallis was not gratified. He pleaded indisposition and appointed General O'Hara in his place. As this general approached the group of commanding officers, the bands added their music. By the stipulation, they had been commanded to play an English or a Hessian march, but they were too proud to select one of their dignified national airs. Instead, they gave the tune of an English folk song of hoary age, known from time immemorial as "Derry Down," but now called "The World Turned Upside Down," a title the British bandmaster no doubt considered appropriate to the circumstances.
But the dignity of the occasion required that they should now observe the proprieties, for there was a wonderful pageant to be viewed, and all felt the great import of the hour.
The conquered army advanced between the two long lines of French and American soldiers. General O'Hara led the procession, riding slowlyand proudly. As he approached General Washington, he removed his hat and apologized for the absence of General Cornwallis. General Washington received the apology and indicated that he had appointed General Lincoln, as the conquered commander of Charleston, to do the honors of the day and to receive the arms of the conquered. The moment was historic.
In one of the halls at Yale University stands a celebrated picture, painted by Trumbull, which gives a vivid impression of the brilliancy and importance of the occasion. In this picture General Washington, in an attitude of great dignity, is placed in the center of the scene. Near him stands General Lincoln who is being richly rewarded for his bitter defeat at Charleston. His hand is held out to receive the sword which the representative of General Cornwallis is passing to him.
At the left of the picture are seen the French officers. Rochambeau is at the back and a little separated from the rest, and the others in the line are the counts, marquises, and barons who were officers in the French army.
General Lafayette, the American, was on the American side, not far from his beloved General Washington. The one nearest to the commander in chief is General (or Governor) ThomasNelson, the one who had suggested that his own house roof be aimed at in the beginning of the siege; the next is Lafayette; then Baron Steuben; the others are representative commanders from various states.
The ceremony that followed this climax was most impressive. General Lincoln received the sword of Cornwallis, and at once handed it back to General O'Hara. The several regiments came forward to deliver their colors. Twenty-eight British captains, each bearing a flag folded in a case, were drawn up in a line opposite the twenty-eight American sergeants who were stationed to receive the flags. Ensign Wilson, then but eighteen years old, the youngest commissioned officer in the American army, was chosen to conduct this ceremony and to hand the colors on to the American sergeants. Lafayette looked down from his place in the line of mounted American officers and felt that his most ardent hopes were now fulfilled, and that his motto, "Cur non," had brought him only the best of fortune.
The day after the ceremony of surrender was the Sabbath, and General Washington ordered that divine service should be held in all the regiments and that Thanksgiving should be the theme. The next day he gave a dinner to which the general officers of the three armies were invited. Lafayette could not restrain his admiration for Cornwallis for his gallant and appropriate conduct upon all these rather embarrassing occasions.