given a great reception and banquet in Faneuil Hall. A portrait of
Washington was unveiled behind the Marquis at the table, and he sprang
to his feet and led in the burst of cheers that followed. Through New
England he went as far as Portsmouth in New Hampshire, and then turned
south to make a second visit to Mount Vernon. Everywhere he went he
was received as the man whom the United States especially desired to
honor. Unquestionably he deserved all the praise and gratitude that was
showered upon him, for he had left his wife, his home, his friends, his
fortune, and had come to America in one of the darkest hours of her
fight for independence, and by his confidence in her cause had done much
to help her win her victory. He had brought French troops and money,
but most of all he had brought that unselfish devotion which had so
heartened the people. The United States did not forget what it owed
to Lafayette in 1784, it has never forgotten it; the republic of the
Western World has shown that it has a long and faithful memory.
At Trenton Lafayette stopped to resign his commission in the American
army, and Congress sent a committee made up of one representative from
each State to express the thanks of the nation. Then he returned to
Washington’s estate on the banks of the Potomac, and there walked over
the beautiful grounds of Mount Vernon, discussing agriculture with the
owner, and sat with the latter in his library, listening to Washington’s
hopes concerning the young nation for which both men had done so much.
History shows no more ideal friendship than that between the great
American and the great Frenchman, a friendship of inestimable value for
the two lands from which they sprang.
When the time came for parting Washington drove his guest as far as
Annapolis in his carriage. There the two friends separated, not to meet
again. Washington went back to Mount Vernon, and there wrote a farewell
letter to Lafayette. “In the moment of our separation,” he said, “upon
the road as I traveled and every hour since, I have felt all that love,
respect, and attachment for you, with which length of years, close
connection, and your merits have inspired me.... It is unnecessary,
I persuade myself, to repeat to you, my dear marquis, the sincerity
of my regards and friendship, nor have I words which could express my
affection for you, were I to attempt it. My fervent prayers are offered
for your safe and pleasant passage, a happy meeting with Madame de
Lafayette and family, and the completion of every wish of your heart.”
Lafayette answered after he had gone on board the _Nymphe_ at New York.
“Adieu, adieu, my dear general,” said he. “It is with inexpressible
pain that I feel I am going to be severed from you by the Atlantic.
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. Adieu, my dear general. It is not without emotion that I write
this word. Be attentive to your health. Let me hear from you every
month. Adieu, adieu.”
On Christmas Day, 1784, Lafayette sailed for France, expecting to return
to his adopted country in a few years. He was not to return, however,
for a long time, and in the interval much was to happen to himself and
his own land.
In the following summer the Marquis made a journey through Germany and
Austria, where he was received not only as a French field-marshal, but
as an informal representative of America and a friend of Washington, who
could answer the questions about the new republic which every one was
eager to ask. At Brunswick he visited the duke who was later to lead the
German troops against the army of revolutionary France. At Potsdam he
was entertained by Frederick the Great, who happened on one occasion to
place Lafayette between the English Duke of York and Lord Cornwallis at
table. Lafayette was, as always, delightful company, and the general he
had defeated at Yorktown wrote home to a friend in England, “Lafayette
and I were the best friends possible in Silesia.”
The Frenchman saw reviews of the Prussian armies, and was much impressed
by the discipline of Frederick the Great. But he did not like that
ruler, and spoke of his “despotic, selfish, and harsh character,” and
he liked his military system still less. He wrote to General Knox, “The
mode of recruiting is despotic; there is hardly any provision for old
soldiers, and although I found much to admire, I had rather be the last
farmer in America than the first general in Berlin.”
From Prussia he went to Austria, where he met the emperor, and there, as
in all his travels, he told every one of his admiration for the United
States and for Washington, and tried to make them see how much the young
republic had already accomplished for the happiness of men.
The love of liberty was the dominant motive of Lafayette’s life. He
had told Washington of his desire to find some means of securing the
freedom of slaves, and he wrote to John Adams in 1786, “Whatever be
the complexion of the enslaved, it does not in my opinion alter the
complexion of the crime the enslaver commits,--a crime much blacker than
any African face. It is to me a matter of great anxiety and concern
to find that this trade is sometimes perpetrated under the flag of
liberty, our dear and noble stripes to which virtue and glory have been
constant standard-bearers.” So, on his return to France, he bought a
plantation in Cayenne, and brought many negroes there, who, after being
educated in self-government according to his directions, were to receive
their freedom. He also tried to improve the condition of the French
Protestants, who were very much persecuted, and ardently pleaded their
cause before the King at Versailles.
In the meantime he constantly gave his help to furthering the affairs
of America. Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of
Independence, who had been Governor of Virginia when Lafayette had
fought his campaign there, was now the United States Minister to France.
Jefferson wrote to Washington, “The Marquis de Lafayette is a most
valuable auxiliary to me. His zeal is unbounded and his weight with
those in power is great.... He has a great deal of sound genius, is well
remarked by the King, and rising in popularity. He has nothing against
him but the suspicion of republican principles. I think he will one day
be of the ministry.”
The United States at that time especially needed aid in establishing
trade relations with France, and it was here that Lafayette proved
himself very valuable. He obtained concessions in regard to the
importing and sale of oil and tobacco, and his efforts on behalf of
the American whale fishery were so successful that the citizens of
Nantucket voted at a town-meeting that every man on the island who owned
a cow should give all of one day’s milk toward making a cheese to weigh
five hundred pounds, and that the cheese should be “transmitted to the
Marquis de Lafayette, as a feeble, but not less sincere, testimonial of
their affection and gratitude.”
The cheese was greatly appreciated, as was also the action of the State
of Virginia, which ordered two busts of the Marquis to be made by the
sculptor Houdon, one to be placed in the State Capitol at Richmond and
the other in the Hôtel de Ville in Paris.
The United States had won its independence, though its statesmen
were now perplexed with the problem of making one united nation out
of thirteen separate states. But France had yet to deal with its own
problem of liberty. There were many men who dreamed of equality in that
nation and who hoped for it, but the King and the court were despotic,
the peasants yoked to the soil, bowed down by unjust taxes, crushed by
unfair laws. There was a spirit abroad that was destined to bring a
temporary whirlwind. So the thinking men of France, and Lafayette one of
the chief among them, turned their attention to affairs at home.
IX
HOW LAFAYETTE SOUGHT TO GIVE LIBERTY TO FRANCE
The people of the thirteen American colonies that became the United
States had always had more liberty than the people of France. Most of
the colonies had been settled by men who had left Europe and gone to
America in order that they might enjoy civil or religious independence.
They largely made their own laws, and by the time of the Revolution had
become so well educated in self-government that they were able to draw
up a Constitution and live by its terms with extremely little friction
or unrest. The success that followed the forming of the republic of
the West was a marvel to Europe; that success was mainly due to the
lessons of self-restraint and the real appreciation of what liberty
meant that had come to the colonists before the Revolution. Progress
that is to be real progress must begin right, and Washington and
Jefferson and Franklin were far-sighted and clear-headed builders. The
people of France had been putting up with wrongs a thousandfold worse
than those the Americans had borne, but they had never been educated
in self-government, and so when they tried to win liberty they plunged
headlong into turmoil.
France was still governed very much as it had been in the Middle Ages.
The peasants were reduced to the very lowest form of living, starvation
and ignorance were common through the country. The business classes were
hampered by unjust laws. The nobility were idle, corrupt, and grossly
extravagant. Almost all power lay in the King, and Louis XVI., amiable
though he was, followed the lines of his Bourbon ancestors, Louis XIV.
and Louis XV., the former of whom had said, “The State, it is I,” and
had ruled by that principle.
Unhappily for Louis XVI., however, the world had progressed from the
view-point of the Middle Ages, and men were beginning to talk of
constitutions and of the duties that sovereigns owed their people. He
shut his ears to such talk as well as he could, and his courtiers
helped him to ignore the protests. The court continued to spend money
on entertainments as if it was water, while the peasants starved. Then
it was found that the expense of aiding the United States in the war
had added enough to the nation’s debt to make it impossible to pay
the interest and to find means to carry on the government. Either the
court’s expenses must be lessened or new taxes must be levied. The
nobles furiously resisted the first alternative, and the people resisted
the second. Toward the end of 1786 Calonne, the Minister of Finance,
had to admit that the treasury was bankrupt and advise the King to
call a meeting of the Assembly of Notables to find some way out of the
difficulty.
The Assembly was made up almost entirely of men of the highest rank,
who failed to appreciate the distresses of the country. Lafayette was
known to hold very liberal views, he was constantly talking of the
American Declaration of Independence and Constitution, and at first a
part of the court opposed his membership in the Assembly. He was given
his seat there, however, and with one or two others tried to convince
the council of the need of reforming the laws. But the nobles would not
listen. They were immovably arrogant and autocratic; they would hear
nothing of reforms or constitutions or the rights of the people.
The Assembly of Notables reached no satisfactory conclusion. When
it adjourned conditions grew steadily worse. The affairs of the
country were in a terrible muddle, each class in the land thought
only of itself, and each was divided, envious and hostile to the
others. Lafayette fought heroically to bring them to the point of
view of Washington’s countrymen. The Marquis, however, was too much
of an enthusiast and too little of a statesman to see that the long
downtrodden peasants of France were a different type from the educated
American farmers. Americans in France, John Adams and Gouverneur
Morris, realized better than he did that the people of France were
not yet fitted to govern themselves; but he would not listen to these
statesmen’s opinions. His rôle was that of a popular leader, not that
of a far-seeing statesman in very difficult times. But the sufferings
of the people were always present to him, and he took the most direct
course he could to relieve and satisfy them.
When he saw that the Assembly of Notables would accomplish nothing to
help the situation Lafayette startled the meeting by asking that they
beg the King to summon a National Assembly of the States-General, a
council that had not met for one hundred and seventy-three years and the
existence of which had almost been forgotten.
The Notables were amazed. “What, sir!” exclaimed the Count d’Artois,
who was presiding at the meeting. “You ask the convocation of the
States-General?”
“Yes, monseigneur,” said Lafayette, “and even more than that.”
“You wish that I write,” said the Count, “and that I carry to the King,
‘Monsieur de Lafayette moves to convoke the States-General’?”
“Yes, monseigneur,” was Lafayette’s answer.
The proposal was sent to the King, with Lafayette’s name the only one
attached to the request. But as soon as the news of his petition became
known the people hailed the idea with delight.
The States-General was a much more representative body than the Assembly
of Notables, and Louis XVI. was loath to summon it. The situation of
the country was so unsatisfactory, however, that he finally yielded and
ordered the States-General to meet in May, 1789.
Lafayette had great hopes of this new parliament. He wrote to
Washington, describing the situation. “The King is all-powerful,” he
said. “He possesses all the means of compulsion, of punishment, and
of corruption. The ministers naturally incline and believe themselves
bound to preserve despotism. The court is filled with swarms of vile
and effeminate courtiers; men’s minds are enervated by the influence
of women and the love of pleasure; the lower classes are plunged in
ignorance. On the other hand, French character is lively, enterprising,
and inclined to despise those who govern. The public mind begins to
be enlightened by the works of philosophers and the example of other
nations.” And when the state of affairs grew even more disturbed he
wrote again to the same friend, “In the midst of these troubles and
this anarchy, the friends of liberty strengthen themselves daily, shut
their ears to every compromise, and say that they shall have a national
assembly or nothing. Such is, my dear general, the improvement in our
situation. For my part, I am satisfied with the thought that before long
I shall be in an assembly of representatives of the French nation or at
Mount Vernon.”
Elections were held throughout the country to choose the members of
the States-General, which was composed of representatives of the three
orders, the nobles, the clergy, and what was known as the third estate,
or the middle class. Lafayette went to Auvergne to make his campaign for
election, and was chosen as deputy to represent the nobility of Riom.
On May 2, 1789, the States-General paid their respects to the King, and
on May fourth they marched in procession to hear Mass at the Church of
St. Louis. The third estate marched last, dressed in black, and in their
ranks were men destined before long to upset the old order, Mirabeau,
Danton, Marat, Guillotin, Desmoulins, Robespierre.
On May fifth the States-General formally met for business. Then began
continual struggles between the orders of nobles and clergy on the one
hand and the third estate on the other, finally ending by a declaration
of the latter that if the first two orders would not act in agreement
with them they would organize themselves, without the other two, as the
States-General of France.
On June twelfth the third estate met and called the roll of all the
deputies, but none of the nobles or clergy answered to their names. Next
day, however, three clerical members appeared, and the meeting felt
itself sufficiently bold, under the leadership of Mirabeau, to declare
itself positively the National Assembly of France. The indignant nobles
answered this by inducing the King to suspend all meetings until a
“royal session” could be held on June twentieth. But the third estate,
having had a taste of power, would not bow to command so easily, and
when they found that the hall where they had been meeting was closed
they withdrew to the tennis-court, where they took the famous oath not
to separate until they had given a constitution to France.
At their next meeting the third estate were joined by a large number of
the clerical members of the States-General and by two of the nobles.
This gave them greater assurance. At the “royal session” on June
twentieth, however, the King tried to ignore the power that the third
estate had claimed, and the latter had to decide between submitting to
the royal orders or rebelling. They decided to take the second course
and stand firmly on their rights as representatives of the people. When
the master of ceremonies tried to clear the hall where they had gathered
Mirabeau said defiantly, “The commons of France will never retire except
at the point of the bayonet.”
The King, although surrounded by weak and selfish advisers, at last
yielded to the demands of the third estate, and the nobles and clergy
joined the meetings of the National Assembly.
Lafayette, who had been elected as a deputy of the nobility, had found
his position extremely difficult. He had thought of resigning and trying
to be elected a second time as a deputy of the people, although Thomas
Jefferson, the American minister, had urged him to take his stand
outright with the third estate, arguing that his well-known liberal
views would prevent his gaining any influence with his fellow-nobles
and that if he delayed in taking up the cause of the people the latter
might regard him with suspicion. This difficulty was solved when, at the
King’s command, the deputies of the nobles finally joined with the third
estate.
The States-General, or the National Assembly, as it was now generally
called, went on with its meetings which took on more and more a
revolutionary color. There was rioting in Paris and Versailles, and the
King ordered troops to guard both places. The Assembly considered that
the soldiers were meant to intimidate their sessions and requested that
they be sent away. The King refused this request, and as a result the
breach between the crown and the parliament was still further widened.
Soon afterward Lafayette presented to the Assembly what he called his
“Declaration of Rights,” which was based on Jefferson’s Declaration of
Independence of the United States. This occasioned long discussion,
for the nobles thought its terms were revolutionary in the extreme
while many of the third estate considered that it did not go nearly
far enough. And all the time the King continued his policy of trying
to overawe the Assembly, and finally appointed the Marshal de Broglie
commander of the troops that were gathering in Paris and Versailles,
planning to bring the third estate to its senses and show the mob in
Paris who was the real ruler of France.
Events followed rapidly. July eleventh the King dismissed Necker and
the ministers who had been trying to bring order out of confusion. The
Assembly, fearing that the King would next dissolve their meetings,
declared itself in permanent session, and elected Lafayette its
vice-president. The royal court, blind as usual, paid no attention to
the storm the King’s course was rousing, and a grand ball was held at
the palace on the evening of July thirteenth. Next day, as if in answer
to rulers who could dance while the people starved, the mob in Paris
stormed the prison of the Bastille and captured that stronghold of royal
tyranny.
The storm had broken at last. The Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt
hurried to Versailles, entered the King’s chamber, and told him the
news. “Why,” exclaimed Louis XVI., “this is a revolt!”
“No, sire,” answered the Duke, “it is a revolution!”
Next morning the Marshal de Broglie, who found that instead of a
competent army, he had only a few disorganized troops at his command,
resigned. The King, seeing his army melting away, decided that his only
chance of restoring order lay in making friends with the Assembly, and
appeared before it, begging it to aid him, and promising to recall the
dismissed ministers.
The Assembly, delighted at this evidence of its power, agreed to aid the
King, and sent Lafayette, with fifty other deputies, to see what could
be done to quiet the people in Paris. They found the city in the wildest
confusion. Shops were closed, barricades blocked the streets, and gangs
of ruffians were fighting everywhere. The deputies brought some order,
Lafayette made a speech to the people at the Hôtel de Ville, and told
them that the Assembly was glad that they had won liberty. Then it
was decided that a mayor must be chosen to govern Paris and a National
Guard formed to preserve order. Moreau de Saint Méry, who was presiding,
pointed to the bust of Lafayette that the State of Virginia had sent
to the city of Paris. His gesture was understood and Lafayette was
immediately chosen to command the National Guard. Bailly was by a like
unanimous vote elected mayor.
So, at thirty-two, Lafayette gave up his seat in the National Assembly
and became Commander of the National Guard.
The deputies, on their return to Versailles, told their fellow-members
that the only way in which confidence could be restored in the crown was
for the King personally to visit Paris. This Louis XVI. agreed to do on
July seventeenth. In the meantime Lafayette had collected the nucleus
of a guard, had restored some sort of order, and made arrangements to
receive the King. When Louis arrived at the city gates he was met by
the mayor, Bailly, who handed him the keys of Paris, saying, “They are
the same keys that were presented to Henry IV. He had reconquered his
people; now it is the people who have reconquered their king.”
The King was escorted to the Hôtel de Ville through a double line of
National Guards. There he was given the new national cockade, which
he fixed in his hat. Afterward speeches were made and then King Louis
rode back to Versailles. He was still the sovereign in name, but his
real power was gone, shorn from him by the obstinacy of his nobles and
himself.
Lafayette had no easy task in keeping order in Paris. His Guards obeyed
his commands, but many of the mob, having tasted revolt, continued on a
wild course, and they were now joined by many of the worst element from
the provinces. Two innocent men were murdered in spite, and Lafayette
could do nothing to prevent it. Disgusted at the trend of events he soon
resigned his office of Commander, but since no one else appeared able to
fill it he finally consented to resume it.
Meantime the Assembly was uprooting the old feudal laws and doing away
with almost all forms of taxation. Their object was to tear down, not
to build up; and the result was that in a very short time people
throughout France were making their own laws in every city and village
and paying no attention to the needs of the nation.
As autumn approached the population of Paris became restless. The
Assembly at Versailles was not sufficiently under the people’s thumb,
the lower classes especially were eager to get both Assembly and King
and Queen in their power. A reception given by Louis to the National
Guards at Versailles roused great indignation. The court, so the people
said, was as frivolous and extravagant as ever, and was trying to win
the Guards over to its side. The excitement reached its climax when, on
October fifth, Maillard, a leader of the mob, called on the people of
Paris to march to Versailles. At once the cry “To Versailles!” echoed
through the city, and men and women flocked to answer the cry.