Part 4

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

A SEA-TURN

Lafayette, meanwhile, was traveling southward with De Kalb. The government does not appear to have interested itself in De Kalb, who had a two years' furlough, obtained probably through the influence of the Comte de Broglie. At the end of three days they reached Bordeaux. Here they learned about the commotion Lafayette's departure had caused and that the king's order for his arrest was on the way. That it did not travel as speedily as the rumor seems to prove that Lafayette's friends were using all possible official delay to give him ample warning. He made good use of the time and succeeded in getting _La Victoire_ out of Bordeaux to the Spanish harbor of Los Pasajes in the Bay of Biscay, just across the French frontier.

It was in leaving Bordeaux that Lafayette found a use for his many names. Each passenger leaving a French port was required to carry with him a paper stating his name, the place of his birth, his age, and general appearance. The one made out by a port official not over-particular in spelling described him as "Sr. Gilbert du Mottie, Chevalier de Chaviallac--age twenty years, tall, and blond." This was [Pg 49]all true except that his age was made a little stronger and the color of his hair a little weaker than facts warranted. His age was nineteen years and six months and his hair was almost red. He was the Chevalier de Chavaniac, though it is doubtful if one acquaintance in a hundred had ever heard the title.

When he stepped ashore at Los Pasajes he was confronted by two officers who had followed from Bordeaux by land with the _lettre de cachet_. Letters from his family and from government officials also awaited him: "terrible letters," he called them. Those from his family upbraided him bitterly; the Ministry accused him of being false to his oath of allegiance. The _lettre de cachet_ peremptorily ordered him to Marseilles to await further instructions. He knew that this meant to await the arrival of his father-in-law, who was about to make a long journey into Italy and would insist upon Lafayette accompanying him, that he might keep an eye upon his movements.

He was now in Spain, quite beyond the reach of French law, but he could not bring himself to actual disobedience while there was the remotest chance of having these commands modified; so he went back with the messengers to Bordeaux, and from there sent letters by courier to Paris, asking permission to return and present his case in person. De Kalb remained with the ship at Los Pasajes, impatient and not a little vexed. He foresaw a long delay, if indeed the expedition ever started. _La Victoire_ could not sail without its owner, or at least [Pg 50]without the owner's consent. De Kalb thought Lafayette had acted very foolishly; he should either have given up entirely or gone ahead regardless of the summons, Also he felt that the young man had not been quite frank; that in talking with him he had underestimated the family opposition. "Had he told me in Paris all that he has admitted since," De Kalb wrote to his wife, "I would have remonstrated most earnestly against the whole scheme. As it is, the affair will cost him some money." Then, having freed his mind of his accumulated impatience, he added, "But if it be said that he has done a foolish thing, it may be answered that he acted from the most honorable motives and that he can hold up his head before all high-minded men."

In Bordeaux Lafayette had presented himself before the commandant and made declaration that he alone would be answerable for the consequences of his acts; then he had set himself, with all the patience he could muster, to wait the return of his messenger. To his formal request he received no reply. From private letters he learned that he had only the Duc d'Ayen to thank for the _lettre de cachet_. Officials had been heard to say that they would have taken no notice of his departure had it not been for the duke's complaint. This convinced him that there was nothing to be gained by waiting; so he wrote to M. de Maurepas that he interpreted his silence to be consent, "and with this pleasantry," as he says in the _Memoirs_, disappeared from Bordeaux. He informed the commandant that he was going to Marseilles in obedience to orders, [Pg 51]and sent the same message to De Kalb, adding the significant hint, however, that he had not given up hope, and the request that De Kalb look after his interests. He, indeed, set out by post-chaise on the road to Marseilles in company with the Vicomte de Mauroy, a young officer who like himself held one of Silas Deane's commissions. They left that road, however, at the first convenient opportunity and turned their horses directly toward Spain. They also made slight changes in their traveling arrangements, after which De Mauroy sat in the chaise alone, while Lafayette, dressed like a postilion, rode one of the horses. The commandant, having his own suspicions, sent some officers riding after them.

At a little town near the frontier, called Saint-Jean-de-Luz, it was necessary to change horses. The masquerading post-boy threw himself down to rest in the stable while the gentleman in the chaise attended to the essential business. It was here that an inquisitive daughter of the innkeeper, who evidently knew a good deal about postilions, recognized in the youth stretched upon the straw the young gentleman she had seen riding in state in the other direction only a few days before. Her eyes and mouth opened in wonder, but a sign from Lafayette checked the exclamation upon her lips, and when the officers rode up a very demure but very positive young woman set them on the wrong trail.

On the 17th of April Lafayette rejoined De Kalb at Los Pasajes, and on Sunday, April 20, 1777, _La Victoire_ set sail for America. In addition [Pg 52]to the captain and crew, De Kalb, the owner of the vessel, and De Mauroy, she had on board about a dozen officers of various grades, all of whom were anxious to serve in the Continental Army. The French government took no further measures to interfere. Grave matters of state nearer home claimed its attention; and, since signs of coming war with England grew plainer every day, it may have been well content to see this band of officers already enlisted against her. M. de Vergennes, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, was quoted as saying that the young man had run away again, and he would take good care this time not to mention the matter to the king.

After six months of effort Lafayette was at last under way. The ship's papers had been made out for the West Indies; but inconvenient orders might be awaiting him there, so he ordered the captain to sail directly for the mainland. The captain demurred, explaining that an English cruiser could take them prisoners and confiscate their cargo if their course and their papers did not agree. As owner of the vessel Lafayette repeated his orders; he even threatened to depose the captain and put the second officer in command. But the captain's unwillingness appeared so extraordinary that he was moved to investigate farther, and found that the thrifty man had smuggled merchandise aboard to the value of $8,000 which he hoped to sell at a profit. Lafayette felt that it was not a time to be over-particular. He promised to make good whatever loss the captain might sustain, whereupon nervousness about English cruisers left him and he steered as directed.

[Pg 53]It proved a long voyage. _La Victoire_ was at sea fifty-five dreary days, and Lafayette speedily fell a victim to the rollers of the Atlantic; but he wrote to his wife he "had the consolation vouchsafed to the wicked of suffering in company with many others." When he recovered he began to study English, in which he made considerable progress. He also studied military science as something about which it might be convenient for a major-general to know; and he wrote interminable pages to Adrienne, full of love, of ennui, and of whimsical arguments to prove that he had done the wisest thing, not only for his career, but for his health and safety, in offering his sword to the Continental Army.

"I have been ever since my last letter to you in the most dismal of countries," he wrote after he had been out a month. "The sea is so wearisome, and I believe we have the same doleful influence upon each other, it and I." "One day follows another, and, what is worse, they are all alike. Nothing but sky and nothing but water; and to-morrow it will be just the same." "I ought to have landed before this, but the winds have cruelly opposed me. I shall not see Charleston for eight or ten days longer. Once I am there, I have every hope of getting news from France. I shall learn then so many interesting details, not only of what I am going to find before me, but above all of what I left behind me with such regret. Provided I find that you are well, and that you still love me, and that a certain number of our friends are in the same condition, I shall accept philosophically whatever else [Pg 54]may be." "How did you take my second departure? Did you love me the less? Have you forgiven me? Have you thought that in any event we should have been separated, I in Italy dragging along a life with no chance to distinguish myself and surrounded by people most hostile to my projects and my views?" "Consider the difference.... As the defender of that liberty which I adore, free myself beyond all others, coming as a friend to offer my services to this most interesting republic, I bring ... no selfish interests to serve. If I am striving for my own glory I am at the same time laboring for its welfare. I trust that for my sake you will become a good American; it is a sentiment made for virtuous hearts." "Do not allow yourself to feel anxiety because I am running great danger in the occupation that is before me. The post of major-general has always been a warrant of long life--so different from the service I should have had in France as colonel, for instance. With my present rank I shall only have to attend councils of war. Ask any of the French generals, of which there are so many because, having attained that rank, they run no further risk.... In order to show that I am not trying to deceive you I will admit that we are in danger at this moment, because we are likely at any time to be attacked by an English vessel, and we are not strong enough to defend ourselves. But as soon as I land I shall be in perfect safety. You see that I tell you everything in order that you may feel at ease and not allow yourself to be anxious without cause.... But now let us talk of more important [Pg 55]things," and he goes on to write about their baby daughter, Henrietta, and about the new baby, the announcement of whose birth he expected to receive very soon after landing. "Do not lose a moment in sending me the joyful news," he commands. "Mr. Deane and my friend Carmichael will aid you in this, and I am sure they would neglect no opportunity to make me happy as quickly as possible.... Adieu. Night coming on obliges me to stop, for I have lately forbidden the use of lights aboard the ship. See how careful I am!" He could afford to dwell on perils of the voyage, since these would be safely over before the missive could start on its way back to France. The danger was by no means imaginary. One of the letters written at the time Lafayette's departure was the talk of Paris, by a man who knew whereof he spoke, had said, "His age may justify his escapade, but I am truly sorry, not only for the interest you and the Duc d'Ayen have in the matter, but because I am afraid he may fall in with some English man-of-war, and, not being distinguished from the mass of adventurers who come into their hands, may be treated with a harshness not unknown to that nation."

_La Victoire_ was a clumsy boat armed with only "two old cannon and a few muskets" and stood small chance if attacked. Lafayette was perfectly aware of this, and had no intention of being taken alive. He entered into an agreement with one of the company, a brave Dutchman named Bedaulx, to blow up the vessel as a last resort, the pleasant alternative in any case being hanging. So, with a sailor pledged to [Pg 56]ignite a few powder-kegs and the captain steering the ship by constraint rather than by desire, the long voyage was not devoid of thrills. These increased as they neared land. At forty leagues from shore _La Victoire_ was overhauled by a little vessel. "The captain grew pale," Lafayette tells us; but the crew was loyal and the officers were numerous and they put up a show of defense. She proved to be an American and so much the faster boat that she was soon out of sight, though _La Victoire_ tried hard to keep up with her. Scarcely was she gone when the lookout sighted two English frigates. With these they played a game of hide-and-seek until they were saved by a providential gale which blew the enemy out of his course long enough to enable _La Victoire_ to run into shelter near Georgetown, South Carolina.

[Pg 57]VII

AN AMERICAN PILGRIMAGE

The bit of land to which that unneutral north wind had wafted the travelers was an island about fifteen miles from Georgetown, South Carolina. Nobody on _La Victoire_ knew the coast, so it was prudently decided to reconnoiter in a small boat. Lafayette, with De Kalb and two or three other officers and a few sailors, started off about two o'clock on the afternoon of June 13th, in the ship's yawl, and rowed until sunset without encountering a soul. After the sun went down they continued to row on and on, still in complete solitude, until about ten o'clock, when they came upon some negroes dredging for oysters.

Thus the first human beings that Lafayette encountered in the land of the free were slaves; and it was not the least picturesque coincidence of his picturesque career that these ignorant creatures rendered him a service, instead of his helping them. Also it is rather amusing that this knight errant of noble lineage, who had come so far to fight for freedom, should have made his entry into America in the dead of [Pg 58]night, in an evil-smelling oyster-boat, instead of with pomp and ceremony from the ship his wealth had provided.

Neither Frenchmen nor slaves could understand the speech of the others except in a vague way. The Frenchmen thought the slaves said there was a pilot somewhere on the island. They seemed to be offering to take them to the house of their master, an American officer; and as the tide had fallen and it was impossible to proceed farther in the yawl, they transferred themselves to the oyster-boat and gave themselves up to these mysterious guides. For two hours the blacks ferried them through the darkness. About midnight they saw a light, and soon were put ashore to make their way toward it. It was evident that their approach caused excitement. Dogs began to bark and the inmates of the large house from which the light shone appeared to be making preparations for a siege. A sharp challenge rang out, which indicated that they were mistaken for marauders from some British ship. De Kalb replied in his most polite English, explaining that they were French officers come to offer their swords to the Continental Army. Then, with the swiftness of a transformation in a fairy play, they found themselves in a glow of light, the center of warm interest, and being welcomed with true Southern hospitality. No wonder that ever after Lafayette had the kindest possible feelings for African slaves.

Mid-June in Carolina is very beautiful; and it must have seemed a wonderful world upon which he opened his eyes next morning. Outside his window was the green freshness of early summer; inside the [Pg 59]immaculate luxury of a gentleman's bedchamber--both doubly delightful after seven cramped weeks at sea. That the smiling blacks who came to minister to his wants were bondmen, absolutely at the mercy of their masters, and that the filmy gauze curtains enveloping his bed had been put there to prevent his being eaten alive by those "gnats which cover you with large blisters," about which he afterward wrote Adrienne, were drawbacks and inconsistencies he hardly realized in that first blissful awakening. He was always more inclined to enthusiasm than to faultfinding, and nothing that ever happened to him in America effaced the joy of his first impression.

His host proved to be Major Benjamin Huger, of French Huguenot descent, so he had fallen among people of his own nation. Had Major Huger been one of his own relatives he could not have been kinder or his family more sympathetic; and it was a sympathy that lasted long, for in the group around the French officers was a little lad of five who took small part in the proceedings at the moment, but lost his heart to the tall Frenchman then and there, and made a quixotic journey in Lafayette's behalf after he was grown.

The water was too shallow to permit _La Victoire_ to enter the harbor at Georgetown, so a pilot was sent to take her to Charleston while Lafayette and his companions went by land. The reports he received about vigilant English cruisers made him send his captain orders to land officers and crew and burn the ship if occasion arose and he had [Pg 60]time; but another unneutral wind brought _La Victoire_ into Charleston Harbor in broad daylight without encountering friend or foe.

Major Huger furnished Lafayette and De Kalb with horses for the ninety miles and more of bad roads that lay between his plantation and Charleston. The others, for whom no mounts could be found, made the distance on foot, arriving ragged and worn. But as soon as the city knew why they had come, its inhabitants vied with one another in showering attentions upon them. One of his companions wrote that the marquis had been received with all the honors due to a marshal of France. Lafayette, who sent a letter to his wife by every ship he found ready to sail, was eloquent in praise of Charleston and its citizens. It reminded him of England, he said, but it was neater, and manners were simpler. "The richest man and the poorest are upon the same social level," he wrote, "and although there are some great fortunes in this country, I defy any one to discover the least difference in the bearing of one man to another." He thought the women beautiful, and Charlestonians the most agreeable people he had ever met. He felt as much at ease with them as though he had known them for twenty years; and he described a grand dinner at which the governor and American generals had been present, which lasted five hours. "We drank many healths and spoke very bad English, which language I am beginning to use a little. To-morrow I shall take the gentlemen who accompany me to call upon the governor, and then I shall make preparations to leave."

[Pg 61]He hoped to provide funds for the journey to Philadelphia by selling certain goods he had brought on _La Victoire_. It would have been easy to do this had not his trustful nature and ignorance of business played him a sorry turn. He found that his unwilling friend, the captain, held a note which he had signed in a hurry of departure without realizing what it contained. It provided that the vessel and cargo must be taken back to Bordeaux and sold there. This was most embarrassing, because, in spite of his large possessions in France, he was a stranger in America and had no other way of providing for the immediate wants of himself and his companions. It proved even more embarrassing than at first seemed likely, for the ship never reached Bordeaux. She was wrecked on the Charleston bar at the very outset of her homeward voyage.