CHAPTER VI.

The King and Queen in Paris—La Fayette’s Letter to Washington—Presents

him with the Key of the Bastile—The Constitution growing under the

Hands of the Assembly—The Memorable 14th of July—Grand Festival of

Federation in the Champ de Mars—Taking the Oath—Carlyle’s

Description—La Fayette the Cynosure of All Eyes—He declines to accept

Permanent Command—Farewell Words of the Deputies of the National

Guard—Vacillating Paris and Vacillating Louis—La Fayette’s Letter to

Washington—La Fayette’s Efforts in Defence of King and

Constitution—The Queen gives Audience to the Marquis—The Flight of

Royalty—La Fayette’s Danger—His Unflinching Courage—He declines the

Throne—Royalty captured—La Fayette the Real Head of the

Government—Supremacy of the Jacobins—Mob in the Champ de Mars—Louis

accepts the Constitution—Resignation of La Fayette—War declared—La

Fayette resumes Command—His Stirring Proclamation to his

Soldiers—Letters to Washington—Plots of La Fayette’s Enemies—His

Fearless Letter to the Assembly—Mob at the Tuileries—La Fayette

appears in Paris—His Jacobin Foes—Blind Prejudice of the King and

Queen—His Efforts in their Behalf ungratefully refused—The Reign of

Terror—Decree of Accusation—La Fayette’s Forced Flight—His Letter to

his Wife—Taken Prisoner by the Austrians—La Fayette and his

Fellow-Prisoners given over to the Prussians—His Loathsome

Dungeon—Transferred to Olmütz—Further Tortures—Attempt at Escape.

“License they mean when they cry liberty.”—MILTON.

THE outburst for the time being is quelled. The king and queen have been

brought by the surging mob to the gates of their royal residence in

Paris. As they enter the portals, the mob cries, “Now we will have

bread! we have with us the _baker, and the baker’s wife, and the baker’s

son_!” and poor Louis falsely imagines that peace has come.

As the year of 1790 dawned, La Fayette hoped that the light of liberty

was rising. He realized that France was not ready yet for a republic,

but a constitutional monarchy might unite king and people.

In March, 1790, La Fayette writes thus to Washington:—

“MY DEAR GENERAL: I have learned with much pain that you have not

received any of my letters. I hope, however, that you have not suspected

me of being guilty of negligence.

“It is difficult in the midst of our troubles to be informed in time of

good occasions; but this time it is by M. Cayne, who departs for London,

that I confide the care of making known to you news concerning me.

“Our revolution proceeds on its march as well as it is possible with a

nation who receives all at once its liberties, and is therefore liable

to confound them with license. The Assembly has more hatred against the

ancient system than experience to organize the new constitutional

government. The ministers regret their ancient power, and dare not avail

themselves of that which they have; in short, as all which existed has

been destroyed, and replaced by institutions still very incomplete,

there is ample material for criticisms and calumnies.

“Add to this that we are attacked by two sets of enemies,—the

aristocrats, who aspire to a counter-revolution, and the factions, who

wish to destroy all authority, perhaps even to attempt the life of

members of the royal family. These two parties foment these troubles.

“After having said all this, my dear General, I will say to you with the

same frankness, that we have made admirable and almost incredible

destruction of all abuses and all prejudices; all that which was not

useful to a people, and all that pertained not to them, have been cut

off, which, in consideration of the topographical situation, moral and

political, of France, we have performed more changes in ten months than

the most presumptuous patriots could have hoped for, and the reports of

our anarchy and our internal troubles have been much exaggerated.

“After all, this revolution, where one only desires to find (as at one

time in America) a little more energy in the government, will extend and

establish liberty; it will be made to flourish in the whole world, and

we can wait tranquilly through some years until a convention corrects

the faults which could not be perceived at present by men scarcely

escaped the yoke of aristocracy and despotism.

“You know that the Assembly has adjourned all discussion upon the West

Indies, leaving all things in their natural state. The ports remain thus

open to American commerce. It was impossible, under present

circumstances, to take a definite resolution. The next legislature will

form its decision according to the demands of the colonies, which have

been invited to present them, and particularly regarding their

subsistence.

“Permit me, my dear General, to offer you a painting representing the

Bastile, such as it was some days after I had given the order to destroy

it. I give to you also the principal key of that fortress of despotism.

It is a tribute which I owe to you, as a son to my adopted father, as an

aide-de-camp to my general, as a missionary of liberty to his patriarch.

“Adieu, my beloved General; offer my tender respects to Madame

Washington; speak of my affectionate regard to George, Hamilton, Knox,

Harrison, Humphrey,—all my friends. I am with tenderness and respect,

“Your affectionate and filial friend.”

[Illustration: KEY OF THE BASTILE.]

But La Fayette’s fond hopes regarding the dawning of liberty in his

cherished land were doomed to speedy and terrible disappointment.

The constitution was growing under the hands of the Assembly; the

executive and legislative and judicial departments were carefully

examined and established upon a better model. Vacillating Louis,

assenting and dissenting to every proposition, was at length partially

pledged to a freer constitution. Then came the 14th of July and the

grand festival in the Champ de Mars. King, queen, and court, churchmen

and soldiers, nuns and countesses, nobles and peasants, all were to

participate in this national ceremony. Four days before the celebration

the different deputations met in the Hotel de Ville to choose a

president for the federation. La Fayette was hailed President by

universal acclamation. He wished to decline the honor, but the Assembly

refused to excuse him. And still another honor awaited him. By a special

act of the Assembly the king had been appointed, for the day of the

ceremony, supreme commander of the National Guard. This office he

delegated to La Fayette, who thus became high constable of all the armed

men in the kingdom.

On the 13th of July the Confederates, with La Fayette at their head,

repaired to the National Assembly to pay their homage to the monarch and

to that body. La Fayette thus addressed the members: “You well knew the

necessities of France and the will of Frenchmen when you destroyed the

gothic fabric of our government and laws, and respected only their

monarchical principle; Europe then discovered that a good king could be

the protector of a free, as he had been the ground of comfort to an

oppressed, people. The rights of man are declared, the sovereignty of

the people acknowledged, their power is representative, and the bases of

public order are established. Hasten, then, to give energy to the power

of the state. The people owe to you the glory of a new constitution, but

they require and expect that peace and tranquillity which cannot exist

without a firm and effectual organization of the government. We,

gentlemen, devoted to the revolution and united in the name of liberty,

the guarantees alike of individual and common rights and safety,—we,

called by the most imperative duty from all parts of the kingdom,

founding our confidence on your wisdom and our hopes on your

services,—we will bear without hesitation to the altar of the country

the oath which you may dictate to its soldiers. Yes, gentlemen, our arms

shall be stretched forth together, and, at the same instant, our

brothers from all parts of France shall utter the oath which will unite

them together. May the solemnity of that great day be the signal of the

conciliation of parties, of the oblivion of resentments, and of the

establishment of public peace and happiness. And fear not that this holy

enthusiasm will hurry us beyond the proper and prescribed limits of

public order. Under the protection of the law, the standard of liberty

shall never become the rallying point of license and disorder.

Gentlemen, we swear to you to respect the law which it is our duty to

defend, swear by our honor as free men, and Frenchmen do not promise in

vain.”

To King Louis, La Fayette then addressed these loyal words: “Sire, in

the course of those memorable events which have restored to the nation

its imprescriptible rights, and during which the energy of the people

and the virtues of their king have produced such illustrious examples

for the contemplation of the world, we love to hail, in the person of

your Majesty, the most illustrious of all titles,—chief of the French,

and king of a free people. Enjoy, Sire, the recompense of your virtues,

and let that pure homage which despotism could not command be the glory

and reward of a citizen-king. The National Guards of France swear to

your Majesty an obedience which shall know no other limits than those of

the law, and a love which shall only terminate with their existence.”

Let Carlyle again describe the scene on that memorable 14th of July.

“In spite of plotting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen, and almost of

destiny itself, for there had been much rain, the Champ de Mars is

fairly ready. The morning comes, cold for a July one; but such a

festival would make Greenland smile. Through every inlet of that

national amphitheatre—for it is a league in circuit, cut with openings

at due intervals—floods in the living throng, covering without tumult,

space after space. Two hundred thousand patriotic men, and, twice as

good, one hundred thousand patriotic women, all decked and glorified, as

one can fancy, sit waiting in the Champ de Mars.

“What a picture, that circle of bright-dyed life, spread up there on its

thirty-seated slope, leaning, one would say, on the thick umbrage of

those avenue trees, for the stems of them are hidden by the height; and

all beyond it mere greenness of the summer earth, with the gleam of

waters, or white sparklings of stone edifices. On remotest steeple and

invisible village belfry stand men with spy-glasses. On the heights of

Chaillot are many-colored, undulating groups. Round, and far on, over

all the circling heights that embosom Paris it is as one more or less

peopled amphitheatre, which the eye grows dim with measuring. Nay;

heights have cannon, and a floating battery of cannon is on the Seine.

When eye fails, ear shall serve. And all France, properly, is but one

amphitheatre; for in paved town and unpaved hamlet men walk, listening,

till the muffled thunder sounds audibly on their horizon, that they,

too, may begin swearing and firing.

“But now to streams of music come confederates enough, for they have

assembled on the Boulevard St. Antoine, and come marching through the

city with their eighty-three department banners and blessings, not loud

but deep; comes National Assembly, and takes seat under its canopy;

comes Royalty, and takes seat on a throne beside it; and La Fayette, on

a white charger, is here, and all the civic functionaries; and the

confederates form dances till their strictly military evolutions and

manœuvres can begin.

“Task not the pen of mortal to describe them; truant imagination droops,

declares that it is not worth while. There is wheeling and sweeping to

slow, to quick, to double-quick time. Sieur Motier, or Generalissimo La

Fayette—for they are one and the same, and he, as general of France in

the king’s stead, for twenty-four hours—must step forth with that

sublime, chivalrous gait of his, solemnly ascend the steps of

Fatherland’s altar, in sight of heaven and of scarcely breathing earth,

and pronounce the oath: to king, to law, to nation, in his own name and

that of armed France; whereat there is waving of banners and sufficient

acclaim.

[Illustration: GRAND FESTIVAL IN THE CHAMPS DE MARS.]

“The National Assembly must swear, standing in its place; the king

himself, audibly. The king swears; and now be the welkin split with

vivats; let citizens, enfranchised, embrace; armed confederates clang

their arms; and, above all, let that floating battery speak. It has

spoken, to the four corners of France! From eminence to eminence bursts

the thunder, faint heard, loud repeated. From Arras to Avignon, from

Metz to Bayonne, over Orleans and Blois, it rolls in cannon recitative.

Puy bellows of it amid his granite mountains; Pau, where is the shell

cradle of great Henri. At far Marseilles, one can think the ruddy

evening witnesses it; over the deep blue Mediterranean waters, the

castle of If, ruddy-tinted, darts forth from every cannon’s mouth its

tongue of fire; and all the people shout, ‘Yes, France is free!’

Glorious France, that has burst out so into universal sound and smoke,

and attained the Phrygian cap of Liberty.”

It is not king, or queen, but La Fayette, who is this day the cynosure

of all eyes, as he ascends the altar and takes the prescribed oath. His

noble nature is neither paralyzed by difficulties nor weakened by

popular applause. For the people’s love he is grateful, but to gain that

approbation he would not relinquish one iota of his principle. Neither

does any rank or power tempt him to seek his personal aggrandizement.

When urged by the deputation at this time, that he should accept the

permanent command of the military force of the realm he unselfishly

refused, accompanying his declination with these disinterested words:—

“Let not ambition take possession of you; love the friends of the

people, but reserve blind submission for the law, and enthusiasm for

liberty. Pardon this advice, gentlemen; you have given me the glorious

right to offer it, when, by loading me with every species of favor which

one of your brothers could receive from you, my heart, amidst its

delightful emotions, cannot repress a feeling of fear.”

That the confederates fully appreciated the noble motives which actuated

his decision in this matter is revealed by their farewell words to him:—

“The deputies of the National Guard of France retire with the regret of

not being able to nominate you their chief. They respect the

constitutional law, though it checks, at this moment, the impulse of

their hearts. A circumstance which must cover you with immortal glory

is, that you, yourself, promoted the law; that you, yourself, prescribed

bounds to our gratitude.”

Paris and Louis were too vacillating and unstable to allow any permanent

peace, or permit France to enjoy any prolonged prosperity. Before the

1st of August the solemn oath which had been taken on the Champ de Mars

was forgotten by both king and people. The same contentions were again

fanning the flames of a still more ominous conflagration.

On the 26th of August, 1790, La Fayette thus writes to General

Washington:—

“We are disturbed with revolts among the regiments; and, as I am

constantly attacked on both sides by the aristocratic and the factious

parties, I do not know to which of the two we owe these insurrections.

Our safeguard against them is the National Guard. There are more than a

million of armed citizens, among them patriotic legions, and my

influence with them is as great as if I had accepted the chief command.

I have lately lost some of my favor with the mob, and displeased the

frantic lovers of licentiousness, as I am bent on establishing a legal

subordination. But the nation at large is very thankful to me for it. It

is not out of the heads of aristocrats to make a counter-revolution.

Nay, they do what they can with all the crowned heads of Europe, who

hate us. But I think their plans will either be abandoned or

unsuccessful. I am rather more concerned at a division that rages in the

popular party. The club of the Jacobins and that of ’89, as it is

called, have divided the friends of liberty, who accuse each other; the

Jacobins being taxed with a disorderly extravagance, and ’89 with a

tincture of ministerialism and ambition. I am endeavoring to bring about

a reconciliation.”

“To defend the king and the constitution” was La Fayette’s unswerving

purpose. There had been a time when he had hoped that France might

become a republic like the United States; but as he carefully watched

successive events he became convinced that the nation was not prepared

for such a change, and henceforth he decided in favor of a

constitutional and limited monarchy; and notwithstanding the king’s

exasperating blindness, in regarding La Fayette as his enemy rather than

his defender, and the queen’s open enmity, La Fayette enacted faithfully

and consistently the double and difficult rôle of upholding the rights

of royalty at the same time that he was defending the sacred rights of

the people.

Madame Campan says in her “Memoirs of Marie Antoinette”:—

“The queen gave frequent audiences to M. de La Fayette. One day, when he

was in her inner closet, his aides-de-camp, who waited for him, were

walking up and down the great room where the persons in attendance

remained. Some imprudent young women were thoughtless enough to say,

with the intention of being overheard by those officers, that it was

very alarming to see the queen alone with a rebel and a _brigand_. I was

hurt at such indiscretion, which always produced bad effects, and I

imposed silence on them. One of them persisted in the appellation

_brigand_. I told her that, as to rebel, M. de La Fayette well deserved

the name, but that the title of leader of a party was given by history

to every man commanding forty thousand men, a capital, and forty leagues

of country; that kings had frequently treated with such leaders, and if

it was convenient to the queen to do the same, it remained only for us

to be silent and respect her actions. On the morrow the queen, with a

serious air, but with the greatest kindness, asked what I had said

respecting M. de La Fayette on the preceding day, adding that she had

been assured I had enjoined her women silence, because they did not like

him, and that I had taken his part. I repeated to the Queen what had

passed, word for word. She condescended to tell me that I had done

perfectly right.”

As La Fayette was the commander of the National Guard, and as Louis and

Marie Antoinette had been brought forcibly to Paris, and were in some

sense under the _surveillance_ of La Fayette and his Guard, they were

unable to perceive that he was their best friend, and they at length

determined to fly from their enforced restraint in Paris. The plan was

made and executed.

“And so the royalty of France is actually fled? This precious night, the

shortest of the year, it flies and drives! But in Paris, at six in the

morning, when some patriot deputy, warned by a billet, awoke La Fayette

and they went to the Tuileries? Imagination may paint, but words cannot,

the surprise of La Fayette, or with what bewilderment helpless Gouvion

rolled glassy Argus’ eyes, discerning now that his false chambermaid had

told true!”

A new danger now assailed La Fayette. The infuriated mob, apprised that

the king had escaped, laid the blame upon his keeper. “Down with La

Fayette!” “Away with the traitor!” are the cries which meet his ear, as

he boldly faces the vast throngs of excited Parisians who crowd around

the Hôtel de Ville. With folded arms and calm dignity, he stood before

the riotous mob. With unflinching courage he surveyed that surging mass

in silence for a moment; then, when he spoke, it was neither to excuse

nor defend himself. His thoughts, as ever, were not for himself; only

for the interests of the people. Casting his piercing glance over the

multitude he exclaimed, in clarion tones, in which there was no

quavering of fear or hesitation in their clear ring:—

“If you call this event a misfortune, what name would you give to a

counter-revolution, which would deprive you of your liberty?”

Filled with admiration for his courage, and inspired with the emotion of

applause, which, in the fickle fancy of the French so quickly follows

its opposite, wrath, the vast multitude rent the air with one deafening

shout: “Let us make La Fayette our king!”

But the loyal Knight of Liberty instantly replied, with stern

disapprobation:—

“I thought that you professed a better opinion of me. What have I done

that you do not believe me fit for something better?”

And the admiring people, recognizing his magnanimous unselfishness,

shouted with wild enthusiasm:—

“LONG LIVE THE GENERAL!”

Meanwhile, in the National Assembly, it was announced that La Fayette

was in danger from the mob, at the Hôtel de Ville. A deputation was sent

to him, offering an escort, to protect him from the violence of the

people. To whom La Fayette courteously replied: “I will order an escort

for you, as a mark of respect; but, for myself, I shall return alone. I

have never been in more perfect safety than at this moment, though the

streets are filled with the people.”

Prompt means were taken for the arrest of the royal fugitives.

“By first or by second principles, much is promptly decided: ministers

are sent for; instructed how to continue their functions; La Fayette is

examined, and Gouvion, who gives a most helpless account—the best he

can.... La Fayette’s aide-de-camp, Romœuf, riding _à franc etrier_,

on that old herb-merchant’s route, quickened during the last stages, has

got to Varennes, where the ten thousand now furiously demand, with fury

of panic terror, that royalty shall forthwith return Paris-ward, that

there be not infinite bloodshed.... So then our grand royalist plot, of

flight to Metz, has executed itself. On Monday night royalty went; on

Saturday evening it returns; so much, within one short week, has royalty

accomplished for itself.”

A decree was passed by the Assembly, suspending Louis from his kingly

functions, as it was contended that by his flight he had voluntarily

abdicated the throne; and a guard was placed over the king, queen, and

Dauphin.

La Fayette, as commander-in-chief of the National Guards, was in reality

the head of the government in France. Though Louis was his captive, he

endeavored by every attention of respect to make him feel his restraint

as little as possible.

The Jacobins had now gained the supremacy in France. They contended that

the people should elect a ruler instead of Louis, whom they declared had

relinquished his rights. The Assembly were not yet prepared for this

step, and they resolved to restore Louis to power.

A decree was therefore issued by the Assembly, removing the ban from

Louis, and declaring that he was not culpable for his recent journey.

This decree raised a storm of opposition. The day after the bill was

passed, a vast mob assembled in the Champ de Mars, to protest against

this unpopular measure.

Quickly the crowd raised a riotous tumult, and again La Fayette, _the

Patriot_, stood in their midst. But this time his voice could not be

heard on account of their wild clamors, which filled the air and were

echoed from surrounding streets. When his words of command were

partially understood, their frenzy had reached too high a pitch to be

quelled; threats were muttered against him, and even a musket was fired

at his breast. But his fearless spirit was resolved to put down this

dangerous insurrection, and he was determined not to leave the spot

until his efforts had been successful. By his nerve, and quick plans as

speedily executed, the rioters were at length forced to give way, but

not until blood had been shed, for which his enemies called him to an

account.

Appreciating the necessity for a firmer government, the Assembly

completed its constitution, and it was submitted to Louis for his

acceptance. Poor vacillating Louis was ill-pleased with this same

constitution, but the past had taught him that it was safest to submit;

and thereupon he repaired to the Assembly and accepted the constitution,

and on the 30th of September it was declared that the Constituent

Assembly had terminated its sittings. This Assembly had been in

existence three years, and had enacted 1309 laws and decrees.

A few days afterwards La Fayette resigned his office as

commander-in-chief of the National Guard, deeming that his country no

longer required his public services, and desiring intensely to retire to

his private estates and enjoy the delights of a quiet life. He sent the

following letter to his late comrades in arms:—

“To serve you until this day, gentlemen, was a duty imposed upon me by

the sentiments which have animated my whole life. To resign now, without

reserve, to my country, all the power and influence she gave me for the

purpose of defending her during recent convulsions,—is a duty which I

owe to my well-known resolutions, and it amply satisfies the only sort

of ambition I possess.”

The Guard could not part with him without renewed expressions of

admiration for their idol. Finding that they could not move him, by

their persuasions, to withdraw his resignation, they forged a sword from

the bolts of the Bastile, and presented it to him, with profound marks

of their esteem and affection. The municipality of Paris voted him a

medal, and ordered a complimentary inscription to be placed upon the

bust of La Fayette, which had been presented by Virginia to the city of

Paris twelve years before.

“Now that his Majesty has accepted the constitution, to the sound of

cannon-salvoes, who would not hope? La Fayette has moved for an amnesty,

for universal forgiving and forgetting of revolutionary faults; and now

surely the glorious revolution, cleared of its rubbish, is complete....

Welcome, surely, to all right hearts, is La Fayette’s chivalrous

amnesty. The National Constituent Assembly declares that it has finished

its mission; so, amid glitter of illuminated streets and Champs Elysées,

and crackle of fireworks, and glad deray, has the first National

Assembly vanished.... La Fayette, for his part, will lay down the

command. He retires, Cincinnatus-like, to his hearth and farm, but soon

leaves them again.”

[Illustration: THE KING ACCEPTING THE CONSTITUTION.]

But the king and court seem blindly destined to bring about their own

destruction. The Royalists, far from distinguishing between such men as

La Fayette, Robespierre, and Pétion, strengthened the hands of the two

last, thinking by those means to weaken the former. The court, incited

by the queen, treated La Fayette with a blindfold hatred, by opposing

Pétion to him at every turn. When the honest, well-meaning soldier was

about to be elected mayor of Paris, Marie Antoinette, through her

machinations, caused the nomination of Pétion, who employed his exalted

position in overturning the throne and the constitution. But not only

was France at the mercy of the factions within, but foreign hosts

threatened them without.

La Fayette’s quiet life of repose was soon disturbed. Startling rumors

reached Paris that a large army was preparing for an invasion. Quick to

respond to his country’s call, La Fayette relinquished his coveted

delights of rest and reunion with his family, and accepted the command

of one of the three armies which France was raising to meet the

advancing foe.

At this time La Fayette issued the following stirring proclamation to

his army:—

“SOLDIERS OF OUR COUNTRY!

“The legislative corps and the king, in the name of the French people,

have declared war. Since the country, by constitutional means and by her

will, calls us to defend her, what citizen can refuse to her his arm?

“At this moment, when we leaders take again the oath which was

pronounced by the nation and army upon the altar of the Federation, I

come to explain my intentions, and to recall to you my principles.

“Convinced by the experience of a life devoted to Liberty, that she can

only be preserved in the midst of citizens submissive to the laws, as

she can only be defended by disciplined troops, I have served the people

without cajoling them, and in my constant struggle against license and

anarchy I have incurred the honorable hatred of the ambitious, and of

all factions.

“To-day that the army awaits me, it is not with a pernicious

complaisance, but with an inflexible discipline, and with a rigorous

fulfilment of duty, that I will justify the affection which they accord

to me, and the esteem which they owe me.

“But since I control free men by the imperious will of a chief, it is

necessary that we all feel—general, officers, and soldiers—that in this

coming war it is a combat to the death between our principles and the

pretensions of despots. We must work for the rights of each citizen and

the safety of all. We must work for the constitution which we have sworn

by, and for the sacred cause of liberty and equality. In short, we must

work for the National Sovereignty, by which only we shall be able to

resist any such combination of force and danger as there may be; and

without which, not only will the French people, but humanity itself, be

betrayed.

“Soldiers of Liberty! it is not sufficient for merit to be brave; be

patient, indefatigable. Your general ought to plan and order; you, to

obey. Be generous! respect a disarmed enemy. Those troops which always

grant quarter, and will never receive it, will be invincible. Let us be

disinterested, so that the shameful idea of pillage will never soil the

nobility of our motives. Let us be humane; it will make every one admire

our sentiments and bless our laws.

“Resolve ye, with your general, that we shall see Liberty triumph, or

that we shall not survive her.

“Soldiers of the Constitution! fear not that she ceases to watch you

when you fight for her. Fear not when you go to defend your country,

that these internal dissensions shall trouble your firesides. Without

doubt the legislative corps and the king will intimately unite in the

decisive moment to insure the empire and the law, every one, and their

property will be respected. Civil and religious liberty will not be

profaned; the peaceable citizen will be protected, whatever may be his

opinions; the culpable will be punished, whatever may be his pretences.

“All parties will be dispelled, and the constitution alone will rule;

and upon the rebels who have attacked with open voice, and upon the

traitors, who have perverted it by their vile passions, will be meted

out such judgment as shall make them fear it inwardly and respect it

outwardly.

“Yes, we will have the reward of our labor and of our blood. Let us all

attest with confidence,—both the representatives elected by the people

who have sworn to transact only the duties of the constitution, as we

its dangers; and the hereditary representative, the citizen-king, whom

the constitution has firmly established upon the throne; and all the

other depositories of authority to whom the constitution has delegated

power,—let them all believe that the execution of that authority is a

duty which the constitution has laid upon them, as obedience is demanded

from those who must submit to them; and that any one transgresses the

laws in not making them to be obeyed, as they were placed in office that

the laws might be defended.

“Let us also affirm, all ye National Guard, that the constitution, newly

born, shall find us united for its establishment, and that the

constitution, in peril, will always find us ready to defend it; for

patriotism renders even glorious the calumnies which we may have to

endure in support of the constitution.

“As for us, furnished with the arms which liberty has consecrated, and

with the declaration of rights, let us march towards our enemies!”

The central army was assigned to La Fayette, with his headquarters at

Metz. War was declared against Austria on the 20th of April, and on the

24th La Fayette was ordered to collect his regiments and report at Metz

by the 1st of May. This required such marvellous celerity that his

enemies hoped he would fail to accomplish it, but on the appointed day

La Fayette was at the post assigned, awaiting further orders. From his

camp at Metz La Fayette wrote thus to Washington:—

“This is a very different date from that which had announced to you my

return to the sweets of private life, a situation hitherto not very

familiar to me, but which, after fifteen revolutionary years, I had

become quite fit to enjoy. I have given you an account of the quiet and

rural mode of living I had adopted in the mountains where I was born,

having there a good house and a _late_ manor, now unlorded into a large

farm, with an English overseer for my instruction. For as I have

relinquished my title of nobility, I manage my estate as a simple

country gentleman. I felt myself very happy among my neighbors, no more

vassals to me nor anybody, and had given to my wife and rising family

the only quiet weeks they had enjoyed for a long time, when the threats

and mad preparations of the refugees, and, still more, the countenance

they had obtained in the dominions of our neighbors, induced the

National Assembly and the king to adopt a more rigorous system than had

hitherto been the case.

“I had declined every public employment that had been offered by the

people, and, still more, had I refused consent to my being appointed to

any military command; but when I saw our liberties and constitution were

seriously threatened, and my services could be usefully employed in

fighting for our old cause, I could no longer resist the wishes of my

countrymen; and as soon as the king’s express reached my farm, I set out

for Paris; from thence to this place; and I do not think it

uninteresting to you, my dear General, to add, that I was everywhere on

the road affectionately welcomed.”

Again La Fayette writes to Washington, in March, 1792, from Paris,

whither he had been recalled from Metz by political affairs:—

“MY DEAR GENERAL: I have been called from the army to the capital for a

conference between two other generals, the ministers, and myself; and I

am at present about to return to my post. The coalition of the

continental powers concerning that which touches our affairs, is

certain, and will not be broken by the death of the Emperor Leopold II.

But as regards the preparations for their continental war, it is yet

doubtful whether our neighbors will dare approach in order to extinguish

a flame so contagious as that of liberty.

“The danger for us is in the state of anarchy which arises from the

ignorance of the people, from the immense numbers of non-proprietors,

and from the habitual mistrust regarding every kind of measure of the

government. The difficulties are augmented by the discontents and the

distinguished aristocrats, because these two parties unite in

counteracting our ideas of public order.

“Do not believe, however, my dear General, the exaggerated accounts

which you will receive, especially those which come from England.

Liberty and equality will be preserved in France, that is certain; but

if they succumb, you may know well that I will not have survived them.

Yon can be assured, however, that we go forth to meet this painful

present situation, by an honorable defence, and for the amelioration of

our internal affairs.

“We have not had time to prove just at what point our constitution can

bring to us a good government. We know only that it is established upon

the rights of the people, destroys nearly all abuses, changes French

vassalage into national dignity; in short, it renders to men the

enjoyment of their faculties, which nature has given to them, and which

society assures to them.

“Permit me, my dear General, to present to you alone an observation

upon the last choice of an American ambassador. I am a personal friend

of Gouverneur Morris, and I have always been, as an individual,

content with him; but the aristocratic principles, and even

counter-revolutionary ones which he has professed, render him scarcely

the proper person to represent the only nation of which the government

resembles ours, since both of them are founded upon the plan of a

democratic representation. I will add, that as France finds herself

surrounded by enemies, it would seem that America ought to desire to

conform herself to the changes in our government.

“I speak not only of those which democratic principles can hasten and

introduce, but of those new projects of the aristocracy, such as the

re-establishment of a nobility, the creation of a chamber of peers, and

other political blasphemies of that kind, which, so far as we are able,

we shall not have realized in France.

“I have desired that we should establish an elective senate, a more

independent judiciary corps, and a more energetic administration; but it

is necessary that the people should be taught to know the advantages of

a firm government before knowing how to reconcile it with their ideas of

liberty, and to distinguish it from those arbitrary systems which it has

overthrown.

“You see, my dear General, I am not an enthusiast regarding all the

clauses of our constitution, though I love those principles which

resemble those of the United States; as to the exception of an

hereditary president of executive power, I believe it conforms to our

circumstances at present.

“But I hate all that resembles despotism and the aristocracy, and I

cannot relinquish the desire that these principles, American and French,

should be in the heart and upon the lips of the ambassador of the United

States in France. I make these reflections in case only that some

arrangements conformable to the wishes of Gouverneur Morris can in the

sequel be made.

“Permit me to add here the tribute of praise which I owe to M. Short for

the sentiments which he has expressed, and for all the esteem which he

has inspired in this country, I desire that you should personally

recognize it.

“There are changes in the ministry preparing. The king has chosen his

council from the most violent portion of the popular party, that is to

say, from the club of the Jacobins, a kind of Jesuitical institution

more likely to make deserters from our cause than to attract to us

followers. These new ministers, however, are not suspected of being able

to have a chance of re-establishing order. They discuss that which they

should apply to themselves. The Assembly is little enlightened; they

value too highly popular applause. The king in his daily conduct from

time to time acts very well. After all, the thing will go on, and the

success of the revolution cannot be placed in doubt.

“My command extends upon the frontiers from Givet to Bitche. I have

sixty thousand men, and this number will be increased by young men who

will come from all parts of the empire to complete the regiments. The

voluntary recruits are animated by a spirit most patriotic. I go to make

an entrenched camp with thirty thousand men, and with a detached corps

of four to five thousand; the remainder of the troops will occupy strong

places. The armies of the Maréchaux Luckner and Rochambeau are inferior

to mine, because we have sent several regiments south; but in case of

war we can gather respectable forces.

“If we have yet some reasons for discontent, we can, however, hope to

attain our just cause. License, under the mask of patriotism, is our

greatest evil, because it menaces property, tranquillity, and even

liberty.

“Adieu, my dear General; think sometimes of your respectful, tender, and

filial friend.”

But La Fayette’s confidence in his countrymen was repaid by ingratitude;

and he was yet to learn that few men were actuated by his unselfish

loyalty and stern integrity.

[Illustration: THE MOB INVADE THE TUILERIES.]

His enemies now plotted his ruin. A treacherous plan was laid to draw

off his expected re-enforcements, so that when he reached Givet, he

would find himself at the mercy of the advancing foe. This disgraceful

scheme was put into execution, and La Fayette, finding himself exposed

to overwhelming dangers, wisely retreated to his former post to await

further developments. But soon the direful rumors from Paris filled his

patriotic heart with more painful concern than his own perilous

position. “Would that he had trusted me!” exclaimed magnanimous La

Fayette, as courier after courier brought news of the woes thickening

around the helpless, weak king. In a letter to the Assembly, La Fayette

boldly declared war against the defiant Jacobins, who were fast

clutching the reins of government, or, rather, planning a

counter-revolution, which should give up the city and the nation to the

diabolical power of a wild anarchy and unbridled license. It was this

memorable letter in which he said: “Can you dissemble even to yourselves

that a faction—and to avoid all vague demonstrations, the _Jacobin

faction_—have caused all these disorders? It is that society which I

boldly denounce; organized in its affiliated societies like a separate

empire in the metropolis, and blindly governed by some ambitious

leaders, this society forms a totally distinct corporation in the midst

of the French nation, whose power it usurps by tyrannizing over its

representatives and constituted authorities. Let the royal authority be

untouched, for it is guaranteed by the constitution; let it be

independent, for its independence is one of the springs of our liberty;

let the king be revered, for he is invested with the majesty of the

nation; let him choose a ministry which wears the chain of no faction;

and if traitors exist, let them perish under the sword of the law.”

No other man in France would have dared to write such a letter; and this

brave letter lost him his popularity, for the masses were imbued with

the influence of the Jacobins. This party now took an oath to destroy

the fearless marquis who had thus laid bare their base designs. They

harangued the mob, and persuaded them to believe that Louis and La

Fayette were leagued against them. It required little to inflame the

excited people. Twenty thousand men from the lowest ranks paraded the

streets, and with wild shouts of “_Down with the king! to the

Tuileries!_” they swept onward to the palace, and with yells of

execration they trampled down the guard and burst into the very

apartment of the king. Louis for once was roused and played the part of

a man. His calmness awed the mob; and the Assembly sending a deputation

to his relief, the multitude were persuaded to retire.

This news was wafted quickly to La Fayette; and on the 28th of June he

appeared in Paris. He left the army, and came alone as a simple citizen,

and, visiting the Assembly, he boldly met their charge against him,

which was that he had made an attempt at dictation; and he was there to

answer this slander, and to demand reparation for the indignity to which

the king had been subjected. He ended his speech with the words, “Such

are the representations submitted to the Assembly by a citizen whose

love for liberty, at least, will not be disputed.”

But the Jacobin leaders had now the upper hand in the Assembly; and they

declared him guilty of treason. And when the chivalrous and true-hearted

La Fayette waited upon the king, for whom he had risked his reputation

and his life, “he was insulted by the courtiers, coolly received by the

king, and the queen expressly forbade any one to give him the slightest

support. His efforts at rallying around him the National Guard, in order

to march upon the Jacobins and make them prisoners, proved equally

fruitless. He returned full of grief, but not utterly discouraged, to

the army, whence he continued to offer his services to the king; but all

his offers were rejected. ‘The best counsel I can give M. de La

Fayette,’ answered the king, ‘is to serve as a scarecrow to the factions

in following his profession as a general.’”

[Illustration: PRINCESS ELIZABETH.]

The Princess Elizabeth, more clear-sighted than Louis XVI. and Marie

Antoinette, advised that the royal family should throw themselves with

confidence into the protection of the only man who could save the king

and deliver his family from the awful dangers which threatened them. But

the imprudent queen is reported to have replied, “It is better to perish

than to be saved by La Fayette and the Constitutionals.”

Thus was this noble-spirited man rewarded by those whom he had risked

his life to try to save.

The awful Reign of Terror came remorselessly striding on in its

resistless march of death. La Fayette made one more attempt to save the

perverse and blinded king and queen. A plan was formed for removing the

royal family from Paris, and placing them under the protection of the

army of which La Fayette had command; but the haughty Marie Antoinette

replied, “No; we have once owed our lives to La Fayette; but I should

not wish it to be the case a second time.” Thus was their last chance of

escape refused, and the Reign of Terror soon numbered them among its

victims.

And the diabolical Reign of Terror also laid its ghastly hand upon the

freedom of the Knight of Liberty, and against his illustrious name wrote

this infamous “_Decree of Accusation_”:—

“NATIONAL ASSEMBLY, Aug. 17, 1792.

“I. It appears to this Assembly that there is just ground for accusation

against M. de La Fayette, heretofore commander of the army of the North.

“II. The executive power shall, in the most expeditious manner possible,

carry the present decree into execution; and all constituted

authorities, all citizens, and all soldiers are hereby enjoined, by

every means in their power, to secure his person.

“III. The Assembly forbids the army of the North any longer to

acknowledge him as a general, or to obey his orders; and strictly

enjoins that no person whatsoever shall furnish anything to the troops,

or pay any money for their use, but by the orders of M. Dumouriez.”

This decree was widely circulated throughout the army. Against such a

hydra-headed demon of persecution it was useless to attempt to contend.

La Fayette’s only safety lay in flight. For his king and his country he

had sacrificed all that was dear to him in life; and this was his

thankless reward.

At this time La Fayette thus wrote to his wife:—

“I make no apology to you or my children for having ruined my family; no

one among you would wish to owe fortune to conduct contrary to my

conscience.” Surely the actions of his heroic wife and brave children

fully confirmed his exalted opinion of them.

After taking every necessary precaution for the safety of his army, La

Fayette and his three friends, Messieurs Latour-Maubourg, Bureaux de

Pusy, and Alexandre Lameth, with a little party of twenty-three exiles,

departed from France and turned their faces towards the Netherlands.

Reaching Rochefort, La Fayette and his friends endeavored to obtain

passports. But La Fayette was quickly recognized, and the commandant

instantly despatched a messenger to the Austrian general at Namur, with

the startling intelligence that he held in safe-keeping the illustrious

La Fayette, one of the bravest generals of France. The Austrian general,

Moitelle, could scarcely credit this astounding piece of good fortune.

“What!” exclaimed he, “La Fayette? _La Fayette?_” Turning to one

officer, he cried, “Run instantly and inform the Duke of Bourbon of it”;

to another the order was given, “Set out this moment and carry this news

to his Royal Highness at Brussels”; and sending others here and there to

spread the wonderful intelligence: before many hours the news had been

despatched to half the princes and generals in Europe, that the

illustrious La Fayette was a captive in the hands of the allies. The

prisoners were conducted to Namur, then to Nivelles, and afterwards to

Luxembourg, where an attempt was made to assassinate La Fayette by some

of the French refugees. The Austrians finally decided that La Fayette

and his three companions should be given over into the power of the

Prussians. The captives were accordingly closely guarded and hurried to

Wessel. Here they were separated and thrown into different cells. The

many shameful indignities which they suffered and the hardships of their

cruel prison life soon prostrated La Fayette, and he became dangerously

ill, and for a time his life was despaired of. No mitigation of his

confinement was, however, allowed him. Once the king of Prussia offered

him aid if he would assist in the plans forming against France. La

Fayette received this base message with indignant scorn, and bade the

officer return and inform his master “that he was still _La Fayette_.”

The king, foiled in his attempt to weaken the stanch loyalty of the

heroic marquis, who would not swerve one hair‘s-breadth from his

conscientious principles, even for the longed-for boon of liberty,

determined to wreak his mortified pride by inflicting further cruelties

upon the helpless captives, whom, though he could not bribe to dishonor,

he might still torture to death.

The monarch resolved to gratify his malignity by removing them to still

more dismal and unhealthy dungeons. Whereupon, the prisoners were

conducted to Magdebourg; and as they were thrown into the loathsome

vaults of that prison, they were informed that they should never again

behold the light of day. Here they existed, desolate and despairing, for

a year. Frederic William occasionally sent to learn if their sufferings

were sufficiently intense to satisfy his fiendish cruelty, and then

devised new torments. La Fayette dared not send letters to his wife,

fearing that his writing would be recognized, and accordingly addressed

them to a friend in England, hoping that his family would in some manner

receive them. He thus describes his situation:—

“Imagine an opening made under the rampart of the citadel, and

surrounded with a strong high palisade; through this, after opening four

doors, each armed with chains, bars, and padlocks, they come, not

without some difficulty and noise, to my cell, three paces wide, five

and a half long. The wall is mouldy on the side of the ditch, and the

front one admits light, but not sunshine, through a little grated

window. Add to this two sentinels, whose eyes penetrate into this lower

region, but who are kept outside the palisade, lest they should speak;

other watchers not belonging to the guard; and all the walls, ramparts,

ditches, guards, within and without the citadel of Magdebourg, and you

will think that the foreign powers neglect nothing to keep us within

their dominions.

“The noisy opening of the four doors is repeated every morning to admit

my servant; at dinner, that I may eat in the presence of the commandant

of the citadel and of the guard; and at night, to take my servant to his

prison. After having shut upon me all the doors, the commandant carries

off the keys to the room where, since our arrival, the king has ordered

him to sleep.

“I have books, the white leaves of which are taken out, but no news, no

newspapers, no communications,—neither pen, ink, paper, nor pencil. It

is a wonder that I possess this sheet, and I am writing with a

toothpick. My health fails daily.... The account I have given you may

serve for my companions, whose treatment is the same.”

[Illustration]

FRED‘K WILLIAM II. FRANCIS I.

KING OF PRUSSIA. EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA.

At length, despairing of making La Fayette yield by any cruelties,

however barbarous, the Prussian king, fearing that the peace which he

was concluding with France would require the surrender of La Fayette, he

determined to transfer him, with Maubourg and De Pusy, to the Austrians.

Olmütz was selected by their new jailers, and the prisoners were

accordingly carried thither.

Though placed within the same castle, and occupying cells in the same

corridor, the friends were as completely guarded against all intercourse

with each other, and all knowledge of each other’s condition, as if an

ocean or a continent separated them. As they entered their cells, it was

declared to each of them, “that they would never come out of them alive;

that they would never see anything but what was enclosed within the four

walls of their respective cells; that they would hold no communication

with the outer world, nor receive any kind of information of persons or

things there; that their jailers were even prohibited from pronouncing

their names; that in the prison reports and government despatches they

would be referred to only by the number of their cells; that they would

never be suffered to learn anything of the situation of their families,

or even to know of each other’s existence; and that, as such a situation

of hopeless confinement would naturally incite to suicide, knives and

forks, and all other instruments by which they might do violence to

themselves, would be thenceforth withheld from them.”

Such were Austria’s improvements upon the cruelties of Prussia.

In a dark and loathsome dungeon, the walls of which were twelve feet

thick, and guarded by doors of wood and iron, covered with bolts and

bars, the only air admitted into the cell coming through a loophole in

the wall, beneath which was a ditch of stagnant water whose poisonous

effluvium stifled the suffering victim on a bed of rotten straw filled

with vermin, by the side of which stood a worm-eaten table and broken

chair, lay the sick and tortured La Fayette, whose keen anxieties

regarding the fate of his adored wife and children were added to the

bodily torments which his enemies inflicted upon him. Again he became

ill. His physician represented to the authorities that fresh air was

absolutely necessary; three times the brutal answer was sent, “He is not

yet sick enough.” At length, however, he was allowed a daily walk of a

few moments under the eye of his jailer.

The news of the imprisonment of La Fayette had been received with

profound sorrow throughout the world. Many efforts had been put forth in

his behalf from time to time. While La Fayette was at Magdebourg, the

American minister in France took upon himself the responsibility of

directing the banker of the United States, at Hamburgh, to advance ten

thousand florins, which were sent to La Fayette, and was the means of

procuring for him many needed comforts. This act was afterwards ratified

by Congress under the head of military compensation.

The imprisonment of his loyal and devoted young friend caused the warm

heart of Washington the deepest anguish, but, as the president of a

neutral nation, his public acts were governed by caution; though his

personal influence as a man in behalf of his friend was strong in

endeavoring to secure the release of the marquis. To Mr. Pinckney, then

in Europe, he thus wrote:—

“I need hardly mention how much my sensibility has been hurt by the

treatment this gentleman has met with, or how anxious I am to see him

liberated therefrom; but what course to pursue as most likely and proper

to aid the measure is not quite so easy to decide on. As President of

the United States, there must not be a commitment of the government by

any interference of mine; and it is no easy matter in a transaction of

this nature for a public character to assume the garb of a private

citizen in a case that does not relate to himself. Yet such is my wish

to contribute my mite to accomplish that desirable object, that I have

no objection to its being known to the imperial ambassador in London,

who, if he think proper, may communicate it to his court, that this

event is an ardent wish of the people of the United States, to which I

sincerely add mine. The time, the manner, and even the measure itself, I

leave to your discretion; as circumstances, and every matter which

concerns this gentleman, are better known on that than they are on this

side of the Atlantic.”

At length a young German physician, Dr. J. Erick Bollman, filled with

admiration for the illustrious and persecuted La Fayette, although he

had never seen him, nevertheless enthusiastically espoused his cause,

and determined to attempt the liberation of the marquis. Meeting at

Vienna Francis Kinlock Huger, the son of Colonel Huger, of South

Carolina, at whose house La Fayette was first received when he landed in

America, the two young men resolved to attempt at all risks to

themselves his release. They were so far successful, that by their aid

La Fayette eluded his jailers, while out for exercise, and mounted a

horse provided by his friends, and succeeded in reaching Sternberg, but

was there again arrested and carried back to endure still greater

tortures in his loathsome prison at Olmütz. His two devoted friends were

also captured and obliged to suffer imprisonment for six months, as a

punishment for their unselfish deed; while La Fayette was informed by

his cruel tormentors that his zealous friends were to be executed for

their attempt in his behalf.

The Life of La Fayette, the Knight of Liberty in Two Worlds and Two Centuries · 第 6 / 15 章