“My Dear General: I went yesterday morning to headquarters, with an intention of speaking to your excellency, but you were too busy, and I shall inform you in this letter what I wished to say.“I don’t need to tell you that I am sorry for all that has happened for some time past. My sorrow is a necessary consequence of my most tender and respectful friendship for you, which affection is as true and candid as the other sentiments of my heart, and much stronger than so new an acquaintance seems to admit; but another reason to be concerned in the present circumstances is the result of my ardent and perhaps enthusiastic wishes for the happiness and liberty of this country. I see plainly that America can defend herself if proper measuresare taken, and now I begin to fear lest she should be lost by herself and her own sons.“When I was in Europe, I thought that here almost every man was a lover of liberty, and would rather die free than live a slave. You can conceive of my astonishment when I saw that Toryism was as openly professed as Whiggism itself; however, at that time I believed that all good Americans were united together; that the confidence of Congress in you was unbounded. Then I entertained the belief that America would be independent in case she should not lose you. Take away for an instant that modest diffidence of yourself (which, pardon my freedom, my dear General, is sometimes too great, and I wish you could know as well as myself what difference there is between you and every other man), you would see very plainly that, if you were lost for America, there is nobody who could hold the army and the revolution six months. There are open discussions in Congress; parties who hate one another as much as the common enemy; stupid men, who, without knowing a single word about war, undertake to judge you, to make ridiculous comparisons. They are infatuated with Gates, without thinking of the different circumstances, and believe that attacking is the only thing necessary to conquer. These ideas are entertained by some jealous men, and perhaps secret friends to the British government, who want to push you, in a moment of ill-humor, to some rash enterprise upon the lines, and against a much stronger army. I should not take the liberty of mentioning these particulars if I had not received a letter about this matter from a young, good-natured gentleman at York, whom Conway has ruined by his cunning, but who entertains the greatest respect for you.”
“My Dear General: I went yesterday morning to headquarters, with an intention of speaking to your excellency, but you were too busy, and I shall inform you in this letter what I wished to say.
“I don’t need to tell you that I am sorry for all that has happened for some time past. My sorrow is a necessary consequence of my most tender and respectful friendship for you, which affection is as true and candid as the other sentiments of my heart, and much stronger than so new an acquaintance seems to admit; but another reason to be concerned in the present circumstances is the result of my ardent and perhaps enthusiastic wishes for the happiness and liberty of this country. I see plainly that America can defend herself if proper measuresare taken, and now I begin to fear lest she should be lost by herself and her own sons.
“When I was in Europe, I thought that here almost every man was a lover of liberty, and would rather die free than live a slave. You can conceive of my astonishment when I saw that Toryism was as openly professed as Whiggism itself; however, at that time I believed that all good Americans were united together; that the confidence of Congress in you was unbounded. Then I entertained the belief that America would be independent in case she should not lose you. Take away for an instant that modest diffidence of yourself (which, pardon my freedom, my dear General, is sometimes too great, and I wish you could know as well as myself what difference there is between you and every other man), you would see very plainly that, if you were lost for America, there is nobody who could hold the army and the revolution six months. There are open discussions in Congress; parties who hate one another as much as the common enemy; stupid men, who, without knowing a single word about war, undertake to judge you, to make ridiculous comparisons. They are infatuated with Gates, without thinking of the different circumstances, and believe that attacking is the only thing necessary to conquer. These ideas are entertained by some jealous men, and perhaps secret friends to the British government, who want to push you, in a moment of ill-humor, to some rash enterprise upon the lines, and against a much stronger army. I should not take the liberty of mentioning these particulars if I had not received a letter about this matter from a young, good-natured gentleman at York, whom Conway has ruined by his cunning, but who entertains the greatest respect for you.”
La Fayette then recounts the efforts which the enemies of Washington had made to win his allegiance from the commander-in-chief, and closes by reiterating his tender and profound respect.
Washington, in replying to this letter, thanks La Fayette for the “fresh proof of friendship and attachment which it gave him,” and in conclusion writes: “But we must not, in so great a contest, expect to meet nothing but sunshine. I have no doubt that everything happens for the best, that we shall triumph over all our misfortunes, and, in the end, be happy,—when, my dear Marquis, if you will give me your company in Virginia, we will laugh at our past difficulties and the folly of others, and I will endeavor, by every civility in my power, to show you how much, and how sincerely, I am your affectionate and obedient servant.”
A new board of war had been instituted by Congress, designed to have a general control of military affairs. Of this board Gates was made president, and his influence was given in favor of measures contrary to the views of Washington. As La Fayette could neither be persuaded nor bribed to be false to Washington, the conspirators conceived a new plan. An expedition into Canada was proposed, and Congress went so far as to make a resolution regarding said expedition, and give all control of the same into the hands of the Board of War. This was the opportunity wished for by Washington’s enemies. Without consulting Washington, La Fayette was informed that he was appointed to the command of this expedition, and ordered to report at Albany, where the troops were to rendezvous. The instructions given him were of the vaguest kind, and, as after-events proved, intended to mislead him. Washington having advised La Fayette to accept the commission, the marquis departed,taking with him his countryman, the Baron de Kalb, as second in command. As authority for these statements, we would refer to the“Mémoires et Manuscrits”of La Fayette, published by his family in Paris, in 1837, in which La Fayette himself declares these facts, and where the following letter appears. A note is also added by his son, which says: “He wrote to Congress that he could not accept the command only upon the condition that he should remain subordinate to General Washington, and should be considered as an officer despatched by him, to whom he should address his letters, of which those received at the bureau of war should be but duplicates. These demands, and all others which he had made, were granted.” The result of this expedition may be learned by the accompanying letter from La Fayette to Washington.
In previous letters, which we will not quote, the marquis entered into minute details regarding the entire expedition, from the time of his departure until his arrival at Albany, enumerating the many strange and suspicious circumstances which came to his knowledge. He then sums up the situation in the following letter:—
“My dear General: I have an opportunity of writing to your Excellency, which I will not miss by any means, even should I be afraid of becoming tedious and troublesome; but if they have sent me far from you, I don’t know for what purpose, at least I must make some little use of my pen, to prevent all communication from being cut off between your Excellency and myself. I have written lately to you my distressing, ridiculous, foolish, and indeed nameless situation. I am sent with great noise, at the head of an army, for doing great things; thewhole continent, France and Europe herself, and what is the worst, the British army, are in great expectations. How far they will be deceived, how far we shall be ridiculed, you may judge by the candid account you have got of the state of affairs.“There are things, I dare say, in which I am deceived; a certain colonel is not here for nothing; one other gentleman became very popular before I came to this place: Arnold himself is very fond of him. Every side on which I turn to look I am sure a cloud is drawn before my eyes; but there are points I cannot be deceived upon. The want of money, the dissatisfaction among the soldiers, the disinclination of every one (except the Canadians, who thereby would stay at home) for this expedition, are as conspicuous as possible. I am sure I shall become very ridiculous and be laughed at.My expeditionwill be as famous as thesecret expeditionagainst Rhode Island. I confess, my dear General, that I find myself of very sensitive feelings whenever my reputation and glory are concerned in anything. It is very hard indeed that such a part of my happiness, without which I cannot live, should depend upon schemes which I never knew of but when there was no time to put them into execution. I assure you, my most dear and respected friend, that I am more unhappy than I ever was.“My desire for doing something was such that I have thought of doing it by surprise, with a detachment, but this seems to me rash and quite impossible. I should be very happy if you were here to give me some advice, but I have nobody to consult with. They have sent to me more than twenty French officers, but I do not know what to do with them. I beg you will acquaint me with the line of conduct you advise me to follow on every point. I am at a loss how to act, and indeed I do notknow what I am here for myself. However, as being the highest officer (after General Arnold) who has desired me to take the command, I think it is my duty to guard the affairs of this part of America as well as I can. Though General Gates holds the title and power of commander-in-chief of the Northern Department, as two hundred thousand dollars have arrived, I have taken upon myself to pay the most important of the debts we are involved in. I am about sending provisions to Fort Schuyler; and will go and see the fort. I will try to get some clothes for the troops, and buy some articles for the next campaign. I have directed some money to be borrowed upon my credit to satisfy the soldiers, who are much discontented. In all I endeavor to do for the best, though I have no particular authority or instructions. I will come as near as I can to General Gates’ intentions, but I anxiously desire to get an answer to my letters.“I fancy (between us) that the actual scheme is to have me out of this part of the continent, and General Conway in chief command under the immediate direction of General Gates. How they will bring it about I do not know, but you may be sure something of that kind will appear. You are nearer than myself, and every honest man in Congress is your friend; therefore you can foresee and prevent, if possible, the evil, a hundred times better than I can. I would only give the idea to your Excellency.“Will you be so good as to present my respects to your lady? With the most tender affection and highest respect I have the honor to be, etc.”
“My dear General: I have an opportunity of writing to your Excellency, which I will not miss by any means, even should I be afraid of becoming tedious and troublesome; but if they have sent me far from you, I don’t know for what purpose, at least I must make some little use of my pen, to prevent all communication from being cut off between your Excellency and myself. I have written lately to you my distressing, ridiculous, foolish, and indeed nameless situation. I am sent with great noise, at the head of an army, for doing great things; thewhole continent, France and Europe herself, and what is the worst, the British army, are in great expectations. How far they will be deceived, how far we shall be ridiculed, you may judge by the candid account you have got of the state of affairs.
“There are things, I dare say, in which I am deceived; a certain colonel is not here for nothing; one other gentleman became very popular before I came to this place: Arnold himself is very fond of him. Every side on which I turn to look I am sure a cloud is drawn before my eyes; but there are points I cannot be deceived upon. The want of money, the dissatisfaction among the soldiers, the disinclination of every one (except the Canadians, who thereby would stay at home) for this expedition, are as conspicuous as possible. I am sure I shall become very ridiculous and be laughed at.My expeditionwill be as famous as thesecret expeditionagainst Rhode Island. I confess, my dear General, that I find myself of very sensitive feelings whenever my reputation and glory are concerned in anything. It is very hard indeed that such a part of my happiness, without which I cannot live, should depend upon schemes which I never knew of but when there was no time to put them into execution. I assure you, my most dear and respected friend, that I am more unhappy than I ever was.
“My desire for doing something was such that I have thought of doing it by surprise, with a detachment, but this seems to me rash and quite impossible. I should be very happy if you were here to give me some advice, but I have nobody to consult with. They have sent to me more than twenty French officers, but I do not know what to do with them. I beg you will acquaint me with the line of conduct you advise me to follow on every point. I am at a loss how to act, and indeed I do notknow what I am here for myself. However, as being the highest officer (after General Arnold) who has desired me to take the command, I think it is my duty to guard the affairs of this part of America as well as I can. Though General Gates holds the title and power of commander-in-chief of the Northern Department, as two hundred thousand dollars have arrived, I have taken upon myself to pay the most important of the debts we are involved in. I am about sending provisions to Fort Schuyler; and will go and see the fort. I will try to get some clothes for the troops, and buy some articles for the next campaign. I have directed some money to be borrowed upon my credit to satisfy the soldiers, who are much discontented. In all I endeavor to do for the best, though I have no particular authority or instructions. I will come as near as I can to General Gates’ intentions, but I anxiously desire to get an answer to my letters.
“I fancy (between us) that the actual scheme is to have me out of this part of the continent, and General Conway in chief command under the immediate direction of General Gates. How they will bring it about I do not know, but you may be sure something of that kind will appear. You are nearer than myself, and every honest man in Congress is your friend; therefore you can foresee and prevent, if possible, the evil, a hundred times better than I can. I would only give the idea to your Excellency.
“Will you be so good as to present my respects to your lady? With the most tender affection and highest respect I have the honor to be, etc.”
Deeply sympathizing with the trying position of the high-spirited young marquis, Washington used his influence to have him recalled; but in such manner as shouldhonor his fidelity and exonerate his name from any blame. His kind efforts in behalf of La Fayette were successful, and on the second of March the Board of War was directed “to instruct the Marquis de La Fayette to suspend for the present the intended invasion, and at the same time inform him that Congress entertained a high sense of his prudence, activity, and zeal; and that they were fully persuaded nothing has or would have been wanting on his part, or on the part of the officers who accompanied him, to give the expedition the utmost possible effect.”
La Fayette accordingly returned to Valley Forge, and rejoined Washington. How inexpressibly comforting to the harassed heart of Washington must have been the faithfulness of this young knight, who laid his sword and fortune at the feet of his adopted father, before whose character and virtue he bowed with devotion and stanch loyalty.
On the 19th of May, 1778, Sir William Howe, then commanding the British troops occupying Philadelphia, planned to give the fair Tory ladies a delightful surprise. Valley Forge was about twenty miles from Philadelphia, and already Washington had begun several manœuvres in the opening campaign. La Fayette had been detached with a picked company of two thousand men, and ordered to cross the Schuylkill, and take up his post as an advance guard of the army. In accordance with these instructions, the marquis had stationed himself at Barren Hill, about midway between Valley Forge and Philadelphia. This interesting piece of news soon reached Sir William Howe, and he thereupon determined to entrap the marquis, and exhibit him at a banquet which he had ordered to be prepared, and to which he had invited his lady friends, promising that they should upon thatoccasion behold the captured marquis, whose fame, fortune, youth, and chivalry had long engaged their attention and excited their deepest curiosity, and caused them eagerly to desire a sight of this young nobleman.
But Sir William Howe and his fair Tory friends reckoned without their host. Though the marquis was scarcely twenty-one, he was not so easily outwitted by even such a military tactician as the renowned British commander. He also heard of this fine plan to entrap him, and determined by a hazardous and brilliant manœuvre to elude his foe. There was but one method practicable, but it required great daring and cunning. La Fayette was convinced that he must recross the river. To attempt this seemed destruction; but his inventive wit and quick planning came to his rescue. He would feign an attack, himself lead a portion of his band boldly against the British general, who had been stationed by Howe to guard the ford. This he did, meanwhile ordering the remainder of his men to cross the river under cover of this stratagem. The plan was entirely successful. The British, imagining that La Fayette’s whole division was coming against them, halted and prepared for battle. This delay was La Fayette’s opportunity; perceiving that part of his troops had crossed the river, according to directions, he slowly withdrew his own forces, and ere his enemies were aware, his entire band had arrived on the other side of the river; and when the British reached Barren Hill, La Fayette’s late camp, their intended prey had escaped and were marching towards Valley Forge.
“Finding the bird flown, the English returned to Philadelphia, spent with fatigue and ashamed of having done nothing. The ladies did not see M. de La Fayette, and General Howe himself arrived too late for supper.”
General Washington had watched through a glass the imminent peril which threatened the marquis; and when he clasped him in his arms, his heart was stirred, and his eyes glistened with deep feeling. Loud acclamations saluted the gallant band of soldiers, and their young leader became only second in their hearts to Washington. From that moment the influence of La Fayette was unlimited. His youth made his exploit all the more remarkable, and his courage won their profoundest admiration.
M. Chastellux, in his work entitled “Journey from Newport to Philadelphia,” thus wrote of La Fayette’s influence in the army: “We availed ourselves of the cessation of the rain to accompany his Excellency [General Washington] to the camp of the marquis [General La Fayette]. We found all his troops ranged in line of battle on the heights to the left, and himself at their head, expressing both by his deportment and physiognomy that he preferred seeing me there to receiving me at his estate in Auvergne. The confidence and attachment of his troops are most precious in his eyes; for he looks upon that species of wealth as one of which he cannot be deprived. But what I find still more flattering to a young man of his age, is the influence which he has acquired in political as well as in military circles. I have no fear of being contradicted when I assert that mere letters from him have often had more influence in some of the states of the Union than the strongest invitations on the part of the Congress. On seeing him it is difficult to determine which is the more surprising circumstance, that a young man should have already given so many proofs of talent, or that a man so proved should still leave so much room for hope. Happy will his country be if she knows how to avail herself of hisaid; and happier still, should that aid become superfluous to her!”
But just as the welcome words of commendation from his beloved chief fell upon the ear of La Fayette, sad tidings were wafted to him from over the sea. The darling little Henriette, who had not yet learned to lisp her father’s name when he parted with her, but since then had tried with baby prattle to tell her love for hercher papa, had been stricken down; the infant tongue had been silenced, the wondering eyes closed, and the devoted father must wait until he too passed beyond life’s river, to be recognized by his much-loved Henriette.
With sorrowful heart he pens these touching lines to his idolized wife:—
“What a dreadful thing is absence! I never experienced before all the horrors of separation. My own deep sorrow is aggravated by the feeling that I am not able to share and sympathize in your anguish. The length of time that elapsed before I heard of this event also increased my misery. Consider, my love, what a dreadful thing it must be to weep for what I have lost, and tremble for what remains. The distance between Europe and America appears to me more enormous than ever. The loss of our poor child is almost constantly in my thoughts. This sad news followed almost immediately that of the treaty; and while my heart was torn by grief, I was obliged to receive and take part in expressions of public joy.
“If the unfortunate news had reached me sooner, I should have set out immediately to rejoin you; but the account of the treaty, which we received the first of May, prevented me from leaving this country. The opening campaign does not allow me to retire. I have always been perfectly convinced that by serving thecause of humanity and that of America I serve also the interests of France.
“Embrace a million times our little Anastasie; alas! she is all that we have left. I feel that my divided tenderness is now concentrated upon her. Take the best care of her. Adieu!”