Yet the First Consul did wish for the good opinion and support of

Lafayette. It was at his suggestion that certain friends urged the

latter to become a Senator. Lafayette felt that, disapproving as he did

of some of the policies of the new government, he must decline, and did

so, stating his reasons frankly. Then Napoleon’s minister Talleyrand

offered to send him as the French representative to the United States,

but this Lafayette declined also. His political views and the need

of cultivating the farm at Lagrange were sufficient to keep him from

accepting office.

Lafayette enjoyed his talks with Napoleon, though the latter was often

inclined to be domineering. Lord Cornwallis came to Paris in 1802 to

conclude the Treaty of Amiens between France and England, and Lafayette

met his old opponent at dinner at the house of Joseph Bonaparte, the

brother of Napoleon. The next time Napoleon and Lafayette met the former

said, “I warn you that Lord Cornwallis gives out that you are not cured

yet.”

“Of what?” answered Lafayette. “Is it of loving liberty? What could have

disgusted me with it? The extravagances and crimes of the tyranny of the

Terror? They only make me hate still more every arbitrary system, and

attach me more and more to my principles.”

Napoleon said seriously, “I should tell you, General Lafayette, and I

see with regret, that by your manner of expressing yourself on the acts

of this government you give to its enemies the weight of your name.”

“What better can I do?” asked Lafayette. “I live in retirement in the

country, I avoid occasions for speaking; but whenever any one comes to

ask me whether your system is conformant to my ideas of liberty, I shall

answer that it is not; for, General, I certainly wish to be prudent, but

I shall not be false.”

“What do you mean,” said Napoleon, “with your arbitrary system? Yours

was not so, I admit; but you had against your adversaries the resource

of riots.... I observed you carefully.... You had to get up riots.”

“If you call the national insurrection of July, 1789, a riot,” Lafayette

answered, “I lay claim to that one; but after that period I wanted no

more. I have repressed many; many were gotten up against me; and, since

you appeal to my experience regarding them, I shall say that in the

course of the Revolution I saw no injustice, no deviation from liberty,

which did not injure the Revolution itself.”

Napoleon ended the conversation by saying, “After all, I have spoken to

you as the head of the government, and in this character I have cause to

complain of you; but as an individual, I should be content, for in all

that I hear of you, I have recognized that, in spite of your severity

toward the acts of the government, there has always been on your part

personal good-will toward myself.”

And this in truth expressed Lafayette’s attitude toward Napoleon,

admiration and friendship for the General, but opposition to the growing

love of power of the First Consul.

That love of power soon made itself manifest in Napoleon’s election

to the new office of “Consul for life.” Meantime Lafayette was busy

cultivating his farm, work which he greatly enjoyed. And to Lagrange

came many distinguished English and American visitors, eager to meet the

owner and hear him tell of his adventurous career on two continents.

The United States treated him well. While he was still in prison at

Olmutz he was placed on the army list at full pay. Congress voted to

him more than eleven thousand acres on the banks of the Ohio, and when

the great territory of Louisiana was acquired a tract near the city

of New Orleans was set aside for him and he was informed that the

government of Louisiana was destined for him. But Madame Lafayette’s

health had been delicate ever since those trying days in Austria, and

that, combined with Lafayette’s own feeling that he ought to remain in

France, led him to decline the eager invitations that were sent him to

settle in America.

Napoleon’s star led the Corsican on, farther and farther away from the

path that Lafayette hoped he would follow. In May, 1804, the man who

was “Consul for life” became the Emperor of France, and seated himself

on the most powerful throne in Europe. Lafayette was tremendously

disappointed at this step. Again Napoleon’s friends made overtures to

the General, and the latter’s own cousin, the Count de Segur, who had

wanted to go with him to America to fight for freedom, and who was now

the Grand Master of Ceremonies at the new Emperor’s court, wrote to him

asking him to become one of the high officers of the Legion of Honor.

Lafayette refused the invitation, and from that time the friendship

between him and Napoleon ceased. The Emperor had now no use for the

lover of liberty, and carried his dislike for the latter so far that

Lafayette’s son George, though a brave and brilliant officer in the

army, was forced to resign his commission.

Napoleon went on and on, his victories over all the armies of Europe

dazzling the eyes of his people. Those who had been aristocrats under

Louis XVI. and those who had been Jacobins during the Reign of Terror

were glad to accept the smallest favors from the all-powerful Emperor.

But Lafayette stayed away from Paris and gave all his attention to his

farm, which began to prove productive. In his house portraits of his

great friends, Washington, Franklin, La Rochefoucauld, Fox, kept fresh

the memory of more stirring times.

But France, and even the Emperor, had not forgotten him. Once in an

angry speech to his chief councilors about the men who had brought about

the French Revolution, Napoleon exclaimed, “Gentlemen, this talk is not

aimed at you; I know your devotion to the throne. Everybody in France is

corrected. I was thinking of the only man who is not,--Lafayette. He has

never retreated an inch.”

And at another time, when a conspiracy against the life of the Emperor

was discovered, Napoleon was inclined to charge Lafayette with having

been concerned in it. “Don’t be afraid,” said Napoleon’s brother Joseph.

“Wherever there are aristocrats and kings you are certain not to find

Lafayette.”

Meantime at Lagrange Madame Lafayette fell ill and died in December,

1807. No husband and wife were ever more devoted to each other, and

Lafayette expressed his feelings in regard to her in a letter to his

friend Maubourg. “During the thirty-four years of a union, in which

the love and the elevation, the delicacy and the generosity of her

soul charmed, adorned, and honored my days,” he wrote, “I was so

much accustomed to all that she was to me, that I did not distinguish

her from my own existence. Her heart wedded all that interested me. I

thought that I loved her and needed her; but it is only in losing her

that I can at last clearly see the wreck of me that remains for the rest

of my life; for there only remain for me memories of the woman to whom I

owed the happiness of every moment, undimmed by any cloud.”

Madame Lafayette deserved the tribute. Never for one moment in the

course of all the storms of her husband’s career had she wavered in her

loyal devotion to his ideals and interests. The little girl who had met

him first in her father’s garden in Paris had stood by him when all

her family and friends opposed him, had been his counselor in the days

of the French Revolution, and had gone to share his prison in Austria.

History rarely says enough about the devoted wives of the great men who

have helped the world. No hero ever found greater aid and sympathy when

he needed it most than Lafayette had from his wife Adrienne.

From his home at Lagrange the true patriot of France watched the

wonderful course of the Emperor of France. It was a course amazing in

its victories. The men who had been an undrilled rabble in the days of

the Revolution were now the veterans of the proudest army in Europe.

The people did not have much more liberty than they had enjoyed under

Louis XVI.; they had exchanged one despotic government for another, but

Napoleon fed them on victories, dazzled their vision, swept them off

their feet by his long succession of triumphs.

The treaty of Tilsit, made in July, 1807, followed the great victories

of Eylau and Friedland, which crushed the power of Prussia and changed

Russia into an ally of France. Napoleon’s might reached its zenith then.

No European nation dared to contest his claim of supremacy. He was the

ruler of France, of Northern Italy, of Eastern Germany; he had made

Spain a dependency, and placed his brothers on the thrones of Holland,

Naples, and Westphalia. For five years his power remained at this

height. In 1812 he set out to invade Russia with an army of five hundred

thousand men, gathered from half the countries of Europe. He stopped at

Dresden, and kings of the oldest lineage, who only held their crowns at

his pleasure, came to do homage to the little Corsican soldier who had

made himself the most powerful man in the world. Only one country still

dared to resist him, England, who held control of the seas, but who was

feeling the effect of the commercial war he was waging against her.

But the very size of Napoleon’s dominion was a source of weakness. The

gigantic power he had built up depended on the life and abilities of one

man. No empire can rest for long on such a foundation. When Napoleon

left the greater part of the grand army in the wilderness of Russia

and hurried back to Paris the first ominous signs of cracks in the

foundation of his empire began to appear. France was almost exhausted

by his campaigns, but the Emperor needed more triumphs and demanded

more men. He won more victories, but his enemies increased. The French

people were tired of war; there came a time when they were ready to

barter Napoleon for peace. The allied armies that were ranged against

him occupied the hills about Paris in March, 1814, and on April fourth

of that year the Emperor Napoleon abdicated his throne at Fontainebleau.

The illness of relatives brought Lafayette to Paris at the same time,

and seeing the storms that again threatened his country he did what

he could to bring order out of confusion. His son and his son-in-law

Lasteyrie enlisted in the National Guard, and his other son-in-law,

Maubourg, joined the regular army. When the allies entered Paris

Lafayette witnessed the downfall of the Empire with mixed emotions.

He had never approved of Napoleon, but he knew that he had at least

given the country a stable government. And when the allies placed the

brother of Lafayette’s old friend Louis XVI. on the throne, with the

title of Louis XVIII., he hoped that the new king might rule according

to a liberal constitution, and hastened to offer his services to that

sovereign.

The people, tired of Napoleon’s wars, wanting peace now as they had

wanted it after the Revolution, agreed passively to the change of

rulers. But Louis XVIII., a true Bourbon, soon showed that he had

learned nothing from the misfortunes of his family. Lafayette met the

Emperor of Russia in Paris, and the latter spoke to him with misgiving

of the fact that the Bourbons appeared to be returning as obtuse and

illiberal as ever. “Their misfortunes should have corrected them,” said

Lafayette.

“Corrected!” exclaimed the Emperor. “They are uncorrected and

incorrigible. There is only one, the Duke of Orleans, who has any

liberal ideas. But from the others expect nothing at all.”

Lafayette soon found that was true. The new king proved the saying about

his family, that the Bourbons never learned nor forgot. Louis XVIII. was

that same Count of Provence whom Lafayette had taken pains to offend

at Versailles when he did not want to be attached as a courtier to his

staff. The King remembered that incident, and when Lafayette offered to

serve him now showed his resentment and anger very plainly.

Seeing that there was nothing he could do in Paris, Lafayette retired

again to Lagrange, and there watched the course of events. Napoleon, in

exile on the island of Elba in the Mediterranean, was watching too, and

he soon saw that France was not satisfied with her new sovereign. Agents

brought him word that the people were only waiting for him to overthrow

the Bourbon rule, and on March 1, 1815, he landed on the shores of

Provence with a few hundred soldiers of his old Guard to reconquer his

empire.

He had judged the situation rightly. As he advanced the people rose to

greet him, the cities opened their gates, the soldiers sent to oppose

him rallied to his standard. As Napoleon neared Paris Louis XVIII. fled

across the frontier.

Again Lafayette went to the capital. “I had no faith in the conversion

of Napoleon,” he said, “and I saw better prospects in the awkward

and pusillanimous ill-will of the Bourbons than in the vigorous and

profound perversity of their adversary.” But he found that the people of

Paris wanted Napoleon again, and he heard with hope that the restored

Emperor had agreed to a constitution and had established a Senate and a

Representative Assembly elected by popular vote. These decisions sounded

well, and as a result of them Lafayette allowed himself to be elected a

member of the Representative Assembly, or Chamber of Deputies.

The other nations of Europe were furious when they heard of Napoleon’s

return. They collected their armies again and prepared for a new

campaign. Exhausted though France was, the Emperor was able to raise

a new army of six hundred thousand men. With these he tried to defeat

his enemies, but on the field of Waterloo on June 18, 1814, he was

decisively beaten and hurried back to Paris to see what could be done to

retrieve defeat.

He found the Chamber of Deputies openly hostile; its members wanted

him to abdicate. He held meetings with the representatives, among whom

Lafayette now held a chief place. At last the Assembly gave Napoleon

an hour in which to abdicate the throne. Finally he agreed to abdicate

in favor of his son. The Assembly did not want the young Napoleon as

Emperor, and decided instead on a government by a commission of five

men. Napoleon’s hour was over, his star had set; he was sent a prisoner

to the far-distant island of St. Helena to end his days.

Lafayette wanted to see the new government adopt the ideas he had

had in mind when France had first wrung a constitution from Louis

XVI., and would have liked to serve on the commission that had charge

of the country. Instead he was sent to make terms of peace with the

allied armies that had been fighting Napoleon. And while he was away

on this business the commission in Paris was dickering behind his

back to restore Louis XVIII. The allies had taken possession of the

French capital with their soldiers, the white flag of the Bourbons was

everywhere replacing the tricolor of the Empire, and when Lafayette

returned he found the King again upon his throne. Lafayette was

disgusted with what he considered the folly and selfishness of the

rulers of his country; he protested against the return of the old

autocratic Bourbons, but the people were now more than ever eager for

peace and harmony and accepted meekly whomever their leaders gave them.

Louis XVIII. was a weak, despotic ruler; the members of his house

were equally narrow-minded and overbearing. Lafayette opposed their

government in every way he could. In 1819 he was elected a member of

the new Assembly, and for four years as a deputy he fought against

the encroachments of the royal power. He took part in a conspiracy to

overthrow the King, and when his friends cautioned him that he was

risking his life and his property he answered, “Bah! I have already

lived a long time, and it seems to me that I would worthily crown my

political career by dying on a scaffold in the cause of liberty.”

That conspiracy failed, and although Lafayette was known to have been

connected with the plot, neither the King nor his ministers dared to

imprison him or even to call him to account. A year later he joined with

other conspirators against the Bourbons, but again the plans failed

through blunders. The Chamber of Deputies attempted to investigate the

affair, but Lafayette so boldly challenged a public comparison of his

own and the government’s course that the royalists shrank from pursuing

the matter further. They knew what the people thought of their champion

and did not dare to lay a hand upon him.

He retired from public life after this second conspiracy and went

to live with his children and grandchildren at his country home of

Lagrange. From there he wrote often to Thomas Jefferson and his other

friends in the United States. If the Revolution in France had failed to

bring about that republic he dreamed of the struggle in America had at

least borne good fruits. More and more he thought of the young nation

across the sea, in the birth of which he had played a great part, and

more and more he wished to visit it again. So when he was invited by

President Monroe in 1824 he gladly accepted, and for the fourth time set

out across the Atlantic.

XIII

THE UNITED STATES WELCOMES THE HERO

The first half century of American independence was drawing near, and

the Congress of the United States, mindful of the days when Lafayette

had offered his sword in defense of liberty, voted unanimously that

President Monroe be requested to invite the General to visit America as

the guest of the nation. President Monroe joyfully acted as Congress

requested, and placed at Lafayette’s service an American war-ship.

The Frenchman, now sixty-seven years old, was eager to accept, but he

declined the use of the war-ship, and sailed instead, with his son

George Washington Lafayette and his private secretary on the American

merchantman _Cadmus_, leaving Havre on July 13, 1824.

As he sailed out of Havre the American ships in the harbor ran up their

flags in his honor and fired their guns in salute, an intimation of the

welcome that was awaiting him on the other side of the Atlantic. The

_Cadmus_ reached Staten Island on August fifteenth, and the guest landed

in the midst of cheering throngs. Most of the men who had taken part

with him in the birth of the country had now passed off the scene, and

to Americans Lafayette was a tradition, one of the few survivors of the

nation’s early days of strife and triumph. He was no longer the slim and

eager boy of 1777; he was now a large, stout man, slightly lame, but his

smile was still the same, and so was the delight with which he greeted

the people.

The United States had grown prodigiously in the interval between this

visit and his last. Instead of thirteen separate colonies there were

now twenty-four united States. The population had increased from three

to twelve millions. What had been wilderness was now ripe farmland;

backwoods settlements had grown into flourishing towns built around

the church and the schoolhouse. Agriculture and commerce were thriving

everywhere, and everywhere Lafayette saw signs of the wisdom, honesty,

and self-control which had established a government under which men

could live in freedom and happiness.

His visit carried him far and wide through the United States. From New

York he went by way of New Haven and Providence to Boston, from there

to Portsmouth by the old colonial road through Salem, Ipswich, and

Newburyport. From there he returned to New York by Lexington, Worcester,

Hartford, and the Connecticut River. The steamer _James Kent_ took him

to the old familiar scenes on the banks of the Hudson, reminding him

of the day when he and Washington had ridden to the house of Benedict

Arnold.

Starting again from New York he traveled through New Jersey to

Philadelphia, the scene of the stirring events of his first visit, and

thence to Baltimore and Washington. He went to Mount Vernon, Yorktown,

Norfolk, Monticello, Raleigh, Charleston, and Savannah. In the spring of

1825 he was at New Orleans, and from there he ascended the Mississippi

and Ohio Rivers, sailed up Lake Erie, saw the Falls of Niagara, went

through Albany and as far north as Portland, Maine. Returning by Lake

Champlain he reached New York in time for the great celebration of the

Fourth of July in 1825. He had made a very comprehensive tour of the

United States.

The whole of this long journey was one triumphal progress. He constantly

drove through arches bearing the words “Welcome, Lafayette!” Every

house where he stopped became a Mecca for admiring crowds. The country

had never welcomed any man as it did the gallant Frenchman. Balls,

receptions, dinners, speeches, gifts of every kind were thrust upon him;

and the leading men of the republic were constantly by his side.

He was present at the laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill

Monument and heard the great oration of Daniel Webster. “Fortunate,

fortunate man!” exclaimed the orator turning toward Lafayette. “With

what measure of devotion will you not thank God for the circumstances

of your extraordinary life! You are connected with both hemispheres and

with two generations. Heaven saw fit to ordain that the electric spark

of liberty should be conducted, through you, from the New World to the

Old; and we, who are now here to perform this duty of patriotism, have

all of us long ago received it from our fathers to cherish your name and

your virtues. You now behold the field, the renown of which reached you

in the heart of France and caused a thrill in your ardent bosom. You see

the lines of the little redoubt, thrown up by the incredible diligence

of Prescott, defended to the last extremity by his lion-hearted valor,

and within which the corner-stone of our monument has now taken its

position. You see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner,

M’Cleary, Moore, and other early patriots fell with him. Those who

survived that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the present

hour, are now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying

scenes of the war. Behold, they now stretch forth their feeble arms to

embrace you! Behold, they raise their trembling voices to invoke the

blessing of God on you and yours forever!”

The welcome he received in New York and New England was equaled by that

of Philadelphia and Baltimore and the South. At Charleston Colonel

Huger, the devoted friend who had tried to rescue Lafayette from his

Olmutz prison, was joined with him in demonstrations of the people’s

regard. A great military celebration was given in Lafayette’s honor at

Yorktown, and in the course of it a box of candles was found which had

formed part of the stores of Lord Cornwallis, and the candles were used

to furnish the light for the evening’s entertainment.

Lafayette first went to Washington in October, 1824. He was met by

twenty-five young girls dressed in white and a military escort. After

a short reception at the Capitol he was driven to the White House.

There President Monroe, the members of his cabinet, and officers of the

army and navy were gathered to receive him. As the guest of the nation

entered, all rose, and the President advanced and welcomed him in the

name of the United States. Lafayette stayed in Washington several days

and then went to make some visits in the neighborhood.

During his absence Congress met and received a message from the

President which set forth Lafayette’s past services to the country, the

great enthusiasm with which the people had welcomed him, and recommended

that a gift should be made him which should be worthy of the character

and greatness of the American nation. Senator Hayne described how the

rights and pay belonging to his rank in the army had never been claimed

by Lafayette and how the land that had been given him in 1803 had

afterward through a mistake been granted to the city of New Orleans.

Then Congress unanimously passed a bill directing the treasurer of the

United States to pay to General Lafayette, as a recognition of services

that could never be sufficiently recognized or appreciated, the sum of

two hundred thousand dollars.

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