Lafayette found his brother-in-law De Noailles and De Ségur in Paris,
and, certain of being thoroughly understood by these two friends,
confided his plan to them. As he expected, both expressed a wish to
accompany him. The wish may not have been entirely unselfish. Many
young officers in the French army were chafing at the inaction which
ten years of peace had forced upon them, and this chance to distinguish
themselves in war may have appealed to them at first even more strongly
than the justice of the American cause. It certainly added to the
appeal of justice in Lafayette's own case; but meetings with Silas
Deane and his associates, Arthur Lee and Mr. Carmichael, above all,
with Benjamin Franklin, who came to Paris about this time, soon altered
interest to a warmer and less selfish feeling.
These Americans, with their unfashionable clothes, their
straightforward speech, and their simple bearing, with plenty of pride
in it, presented the greatest possible contrast to the curled and
powdered flatterers surrounding Louis XVI. To meet them was like being
met by a breath of fresh, wholesome air. The young men who came under
[Pg 40]their influence fancied that Franklin might almost be a friend
of Plato himself. "What added to our esteem, our confidence, and our
admiration," wrote De Ségur, "were the good faith and simplicity with
which the envoys, disdaining all diplomacy, told us of the frequent
and oft-repeated reverses sustained by their militia, inexperienced as
yet in the art of war." Merely as a sporting proposition it was a fine
thing that they and their army were doing.
De Ségur and De Noailles quietly entered into an agreement with
the Americans, as Lafayette had done. So did others; and it became
impossible to keep their plans secret. When the families of our three
friends learned of their quixotic plan it was clear they would never
consent. De Noailles played a bold card by applying directly to the
War Office for permission to serve as a French officer in the American
army, hoping in this way to match family opposition with official
sanction, but the War Office refused. After that there was nothing to
do but to submit, since they were not men of independent means like
Lafayette, though both were older than he and held higher military
rank. They were dependent upon allowances made them by their respective
families, who thus had a very effective way of expressing disapproval.
All they could do was to assure Lafayette of their sympathy and keep
his secret, for they knew that the opposition which blocked them would
only make him the more determined. The better to carry out his plan,
however, he also pretended to listen to reason and to give up all
thoughts of crossing the Atlantic.
[Pg 41]De Kalb, meanwhile, almost succeeded in leaving France. But
the French government decided that it would be a breach of neutrality
to allow its officers to fight against England, and he was obliged to
turn back. Knowing more about the secret hopes and plans of the Comte
de Broglie than Lafayette knew, he proposed that they go together
to consult him, and they spent several days at the count's country
home. How much Lafayette learned about his host's American dreams is
uncertain, nor does it make much difference in Lafayette's own story.
The two elder men were quite willing to use his enthusiasm to further
their own ends; but he had great need of their help. It was agreed that
the voyage to America must on no account be given up, and that the
best way would be for Lafayette to purchase and fit out a ship. This,
however, was easier said than done. One cannot buy a ship as casually
as a new pair of gloves.
Not only was his family genuinely opposed and his government officially
opposed to his going; England had spies in Paris. It was jestingly said
that all the world passed at least once a day over the Pont Neuf, and
men were supposed to be on watch there, to ascertain who had and who
had not left the city. England, moreover, had agents at every seaport
in northern France. But Bordeaux in the south seemed very far away in
days of stage-coach travel, and consequently was not so well guarded.
As luck would have it, the Comte de Broglie's secretary had a brother
who knew all about ships and merchants in Bordeaux. He found a vessel
[Pg 42]which would do, though she was not very good. Her name could
not be improved upon, for she was called _La Victoire_. Perhaps, like
her new owner, she was able to choose one to fit the occasion. She was
to cost 112,000 francs, one-quarter down, and the rest within fifteen
months of the date of delivery, which was fixed for the middle of
March, 1777.
Weeks before this time arrived very bad news had come from America. The
report ran that Washington had lost practically everything. He had been
defeated in the battles of Long Island and White Plains; New York was
burned, and he and his troops, reduced now to a ragged mob of two or,
at most, three thousand men, were in full retreat across New Jersey,
pursued by thirty thousand British. It was well known that England
was the most powerful military nation of Europe and that, not content
with her own forces, she was hiring regiments of Hessians to send
overseas. Clearly the triumph of such numbers must come speedily. All
society, from Marie Antoinette down, admired the sturdy, independent
Franklin, with his baggy coat and his homely wit. Portraits of him in
his coonskin cap were to be seen in every home. He was a wizard who had
done things with lightning no other mortal had done before, but even he
could not bring success to a hopeless cause.
[Illustration: FRANKLIN AT THE FRENCH COURT
All society, from Marie Antoinette down, admired the sturdy,
independent Franklin, who was always a welcome guest at court]
The prospect must have appeared black indeed to the envoys themselves.
Honorable men that they were, they felt in duty bound to explain the
changed conditions to Lafayette, and not to allow him to ruin his whole
[Pg 43]future because of a promise enthusiastically given. They sent
him a message asking him to come and see them. He knew he was watched
and dared not meet Franklin openly, but he went at once to Silas Deane
and listened to all he had to tell him. When he finished the young
Frenchman thanked him for his very frank statement of a bad situation
and then made a very frank statement in return. "Heretofore," he said,
"I have been able to show you only my willingness to aid you in your
struggle. The time has now come when that willingness can be put to
effective use, for I am going to buy a ship and take your officers out
in it. Let us not give up our hope yet; it is precisely in the time
of danger that I wish to share whatever fortune may have in store for
you." After that it would have required superhuman unselfishness on the
part of the Americans to dissuade him.
How transactions which covered three months of time, two-thirds of
the length of France, and involved so many individuals remained
undiscovered is a mystery unless we assume that the opposition of the
government was more feigned than real. Officials appear to have closed
their eyes most obligingly whenever possible.
To divert suspicion from himself, Lafayette occupied several weeks
in a visit to England which had been arranged long before. Franklin
and Deane were most anxious to have him carry out this plan to visit
the French ambassador in London. So Lafayette crossed the Channel and
spent three weeks in the smoky city, where he received many social
[Pg 44]courtesies. He appears to have enjoyed this season of gaiety
much better than similar occasions at home. The necessity for hiding
his plans gave zest to meetings and conversations that would otherwise
have been commonplace enough, while the necessity for remaining true to
his ideals of conduct--of continuing to be a guest and not a spy in an
enemy country--exercised his conscience as well as his wit. It became a
humorous adventure to dance at Lord Germain's in the same set with Lord
Rawdon, just back from New York, and to encounter between acts at the
opera General Clinton, against whom he was soon to fight at Monmouth.
When presented to his Majesty George III he replied to that monarch's
gracious hope that he intended to make a long stay in London, with an
answer at once guarded and misleading. The king inquired what errand
called him away, and Lafayette answered, with an inward chuckle, that
if his Majesty knew he would not wish him to remain! Although taking
good care not to betray his plans, he made no secret of his interest
in the Colonists or his belief in the justice of their cause; and he
avoided visiting seaport towns where expeditions were being fitted
out against them, and declined all invitations likely to put him in a
position to obtain information to which, under the circumstances, he
felt he had no right.
Before leaving London he wrote a long letter to his father-in-law, to
be delivered only when he was safely on his way to Bordeaux. Then he
crossed to France, but instead of going to his own home took refuge
[Pg 45]with De Kalb at Chaillot, a suburb of Paris. Here he remained
three days, making final preparations. On one of these days he appeared
very early before the sleepy, astonished eyes of his friend De Ségur,
sent away the servant, closed the door of the bedroom with great care,
and hurled the bombshell of his news: "I am going to America. Nobody
knows it, but I am too fond of you to leave without telling you my
secret." Then he gave him the outline of his plan, including the port
from which he was to sail and the names of the dozen French officers
who were to accompany him. "Lucky dog! I wish I were going with you!"
was the substance of De Ségur's answer, but it had not the usual ring
of sincerity. De Ségur was about to marry a young aunt of Adrienne
Lafayette's and his wedding-day was drawing very near.
Lafayette managed to impart his secret to De Noailles also, but he
left Paris without a farewell to Adrienne. The one hard thing in this
hurried departure was that he did not dare to see or even to write
directly to her. She was not well; and, besides the risk of arrest
involved in visiting her, the interview could only be unnerving and
distressing on both sides. The letter he wrote from London to her
father appears to have been the nearest to a direct message, and that,
it must be confessed, contained no mention of her name and no word
exclusively for her. It was her mother, the upright Madame d'Ayen, who
broke the news of his departure, tempering the seeming cruelty of his
conduct with words of praise for his pluck and for the motive which
[Pg 46]prompted him to act as he did. Madame d'Ayen was the only one
of the immediate family who had a good word for the runaway. The young
wife clung to her, appalled at the anger of her father. The duke was
furious, and once more the worthy pair came to the verge of quarrel
over this well-meaning young man. The count could see only madcap folly
in exchanging an assured position at the French court for the doubtful
honor of helping a lot of English farmers rebel against their king. For
a few days the town buzzed with excitement. Lafayette's acquaintances
were frankly astonished that the cold and indifferent young marquis
had roused himself to such action, and thought it exceedingly "chic"
that he should "go over to be hanged with the poor rebels." They were
indignant at the bitterness of the duke's denunciation. One lady with a
sharp tongue said that if he treated Lafayette so, he did not deserve
to find husbands for the rest of his daughters.
The runaway was safely out of Paris, but by no means out of danger. The
Duc d'Ayen, who honestly felt that he was bringing disgrace upon the
family, bestirred himself to prevent his sailing, and had a _lettre de
cachet_ sent after him. A _lettre de cachet_ was an official document
whose use and abuse during the last hundred years had done much to
bring France to its present state of suppressed political excitement.
It was an order for arrest--a perfectly suitable and necessary document
when properly used. But men who had power, and also had private ends to
gain, had been able to secure such papers by the hundreds with spaces
[Pg 47]left blank wherein they could write whatever names they chose.
It was a safe and deadly and underhand way of satisfying grudges. In
Lafayette's case its use was quite lawful, because he was captain in a
French regiment, leaving the country in disobedience to the wish of his
sovereign, to fight against a nation with whom France was on friendly
terms. Technically he was little better than a deserter. When such
conduct was brought to official notice, only one course was possible.
The _lettre de cachet_ was sent, a general order was issued forbidding
French officers to take service in the American colonies, and directing
that if any of them, "especially the Marquis de Lafayette," reached
the French West Indies on such an errand he should forthwith return to
France. Word was also sent to French seaports to keep a close watch
upon vessels and to prevent the shipment of war materials to North
America. Lafayette's friends became alarmed at all this activity and
feared that it might have serious consequences not only for him, but
for themselves. Officials began to receive letters from them calculated
to shift the blame from their own shoulders, as well as to shield the
young man. The French ambassador to England, whose guest he had been in
London, was particularly disturbed, but felt somewhat comforted when he
learned that a high official in the French army had asked King George
for permission to fight as a volunteer under General Howe. This in a
manner offset Lafayette's act, and England could not accuse France of
partiality if her officers were to be found engaged on both sides.
[Pg 48]VI