All the king’s horses and all the kings men were in hot pursuit of the brazen young man, barely nineteen. The whole of Paris, and soon all of France was transfixed by the melodrama of the princely rogue’s flight. He became the topic du jour in the taverns and salons throughout the ancient land. Crowds, young and old cheered him, women swooned as the gallant knight dashed across the countryside. Thus far he had evaded capture. He had a plan to use his families considerable wealth to buy a ship, the Victoire, and sail away to America.
So steeped was he in his quest to honor the family name, that at the age of nineteen the Marquis de Lafayette was willing to defy King Louis XVI’s order to stand down. The brash nobleman had unfurled a scheme to serve the American cause for liberty — whatever the cost.
As a member of the Black Musketeers, the kings royal guard, the tall, auburn-haire aristocrat was possessed of all the privileges accorded to one of his stature. He knew his zeal for an elusive object in a land far away would cost him dearly, and in many ways — He did it anyway.
His gaul was as elevated as his heart rate. The young courtier, as a recent guest in London, had been lavishly courted by the high-ranking society of England, including King George III, to whom he was ceremoniously introduced. He presented himself before the king knowing full well that soon he would oppose the monarch’s reign in America.
Much to the embarrassment of France’s Minister to England, The Marquis de Lafayette abruptly departed from London even as more tributes were being planned in his honor.
King Louis XVI, not wanting to upset his tenuous peace with Great Britain, ordered Lafayette’s immediate arrest, issuing a letter de cachet to be carried out post haste.
A half-step ahead, he eluded the king’s men and made it safely to a Spanish port. But while at dinner, his compatriots detected a turn in his emotions. Lafayette with a pregnant wife and infant daughter alone at home was having second thoughts. He had changed his mind and ordered his ship to sail back to France. He scurried up the Spanish and French coasts and with only a short rest at Saint-Jean de Luz — and a bit of harmless coquetry with a smitten innkeeper’s daughter — the homesick fugitive landed at Bordeaux.
His second thoughts were filled with second thoughts however, and he changed his mind yet again. The siren song of America was too melodious to his ears and he announced that he was indeed leaving for the new world. The Bordeaux commandant, having gotten word of his change of heart, threaten to arrest him if he did not report immediately to Marseilles. In a clever ruse which would soon be his martial trademark, he pretended to ride toward Marseilles as French officers stalked him from behind. He then disguised himself as a courier and rode off hurriedly in the opposite direction toward the Spanish border. The trailing officers soon noticed his disappearance and picked up his trail again. He made it back to Saint-Jean de Luz where the starry-eyed innkeeper’s daughter recognized him through his disguise. A mere glance from the handsome fugitive is all it took. When his pursuers arrived, she sent them in the wrong direction. Lafayette boarded the aptly named Victoire and set his sail for the far reaches of the Atlantic.
He was born in 1757 as Marie-Joseph-Paul-Yves-Roch-Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. His expansive name seems over-wrought until you consider the familial reasoning behind it — that nearly all of his male ancestors answered the call to arms. One such ancestor, the legendary Marechal de France Gilbert de La Lafayette III, fought side by side with Joan of Arc at Orleans.
Owing to this, the family developed the habit of imputing their progeny with the names of Saints in the hope that by doing so God would shield them against harm on the battlefield . His own father had died on such a field, having been struck by a cannonball in the Seven Years War, when Lafayette was but two.
Young Lafayette was raised by his paternal grandmother, who, from the very beginning taught him that courage was the greatest of all virtues and that it alone was the coin to purchase liberty, honor and glory. As he matured, his hulking imagination overflowed with Arthurian heroes who risked everything in the honor of a noble cause.
After an long, arduous trip across the most dangerous ocean in the world, the young noble stepped on to American soil just north of Charleston, near North Island at the entrance to Georgetown Bay, It was midnight, not a soul was stirring. His first words upon pressing his foot onto his newly adopted country, “were an oath to conquer or die for America’s cause.”
His new countrymen received the young marquis well. George Washington treated him as the son he never had. Though he could barely speak english, his brilliance and bearing endeared him to all.
True to his lineage, and despite his tender age of nineteen, he fought bravely along side his mentor George Washington. He was wounded in his first ever battle at Brandywine Creek. “It is not dangerous. Do not mind it – it is just a scratch,” he said to a curious boy who queried him as he left the battlefield.
In fact, it was not a mere scratch. A large musket ball had passed through the calf of his left leg. He was bleeding profusely and in age of primitive medicine. Having stopped to tend to his wound and weak from the loss of blood, he was nearly captured by the British who would have lugged the noble knight back to the tower of London in chains in order to humiliate him, Louis XVI and all of France.
All the British General’s expended considerable effort in multiple attempts to capture the Marquis. They knew for certain that his capture would deflate France’s enthusiasm for the American cause, a cause they were now financing as well as contributing troops, ships and implements of war.
As with his own king’s soldiers, those in the service of King George would never catch him. When he first met the now legendary George Washington and viewed his tattered army, his disappointment must have been evident. The American Commander-in-Chief expressed his embarrassment to the bespoken French nobleman. Lafayette responded. “I have come here to learn, mon general, not to teach.”
And learn he did. Never having fought on the battlefield before, it was astounding to all how quickly he absorbed and excelled in the art of war. Seeing the success of “The Swamp Fox” — Francis Marion, in the swamps and forests of South Carolina, where the bold Carolinian invented modern guerrilla warfare, the young General adopted his techniques to frustrate and eventually ensnare Lord Cornwallis’ army at Yorktown. It is there that the trap was sprung and with the aid of a French fleet which Lafayette had summoned.
The British army was bottled up with no where to go. Admiral De Grasse, in charge of the French flotilla urged Lafayette to press his advantage and attack, thereby insuring the glory for himself and all of France. Lafayette refused. The glory, he said, was Washington’s and his American army. He would wait for his venerable mentor to arrive. His humility in such moments was genuine and would reappear, again and again, throughout his life.
The victory at Yorktown was the turning point in the war and brought about its end. All that has transpired since would not have happened were it not for Lafayette and his bold dedication to the patriot cause. American’s of yesteryear and today owe to him their veneration, remembrance and most of all, their liberty.
Harlow Giles Unger, a biographer of Lafayette put it well.
“His passions included a love of adventure, liberty, and the rights of man; loyalty to friends and devotion to his wife and family. The compassionate Lafayette reached out to the oppressed, the downtrodden, the helpless—even buying an entire plantation in French Guyana for one purpose: to educate and free its slaves.”
Lafayette embodied what true love should be. We Americans, and indeed the world, are much richer for it.
