Adopted Son Page 18

  When in Europe, Lafayette continued, he thought that in America “almost every man was a lover of liberty and would rather die free than live slave.” He was therefore astonished to hear Toryism (support of the king) professed as openly as Whiggism (opposition to the king). He had believed “that all good Americans were united together” and that the confidence of Congress in Washington was “unbounded.” He “entertained the certitude that America would be independant” so long as Washington was in command. “Take a way for an instant,” he told his adoptive father, “that modest diffidence of yourself (which, pardon my freedom, my dear general, is sometimes too great, and I wish you could know as well as myself, what difference there is betwen you and any other man upon the continent), you shall see very plainly that if you were lost for America, there is nobody who could keep the army and the revolution for six months.” There were “oppen dissentions in Congress, stupid men who without knowing a single word about war undertake to judge you, to make ridiculous comparisons.”

  He went on to state his surprise at the creation of the Board of War and its interference in the army, and said that the promotion of Conway was “beyhond all my expectations.” He confessed to being fooled by Conway, who “says he is entirely a man to be disposed of by me, he calls himself my soldier, and the reason of such behaviour for me is that he wishs to be well spoken of at the french court…but since the letter of Lord Stirligg I inquired in his caracter.” Lafayette had found him to be an ambitious and dangerous man who had done all he could “by cunning maneuvres to take off my confidence and affection for you. His desire was to engage me to leave this country.” Observing that all the generals had rebelled against Congress, he worried, “Such disputes if known by the ennemy, can be attended with horrid consequences…. I wish indeed those matters could be soon pacified. I wish your excellency could let them know how necessary you are to them.”

  Apologizing for his “very useless and even very importune” letter, Lafayette expressed shock that a Frenchman could behave so badly. “But, sir, besides Connway is an Irishman…. That gentleman had engaged me by entertaining my head with ideas of glory and shining projects, and I must confess for my shame that it is a too certain way of deceiving me.” He rambled some more and concluded: “My desire of deserving your satisfaction is stronger than ever, and every where you’l employ me you can be certain of my trying every exertion in my power to succeed. I am now fixed to your fate and I shall follow it and sustain it as well by my sword as by all means in my power.”64

  This was an expression of absolute love and loyalty. Washington had never in his life received anything like it. Beset by troubles all around, betrayed by one officer after another, not knowing if he could trust anyone, he now knew there was one person in the world who would never turn on him. He told him so: “My dear marquis, Your favor of yesterday conveyed to me fresh proof of that friendship and attachment which I have happily experienced since the first of our acquaintance, and for which I entertain sentiments of the purest affection. It will ever constitute part of my happiness to know that I stand well in your opinion, because I am satisfied that you can have no views to answer by throwing out false colours, and that you possess a mind too exalted to condescend to dirty arts and low intrigues to acquire a reputation. Happy, thrice happy, would it have been for this army and the cause we are embarked in if the same generous spirit had pervaded all the actors in it.”

  As for Conway, “[h]is ambition and great desire of being puffed off as one of the first officers of the age, could only be equalled by the means which he used to obtain them; but finding that I was determined not to go beyond the line of my duty to indulge him in the first, nor, to exceed the strictest rules of propriety, to gratify him in the second, he became my inveterate enemy; and has, I am persuaded, practised every art to do me an injury…. How far he may have accomplished his ends, I know not, and, but for considerations of a public nature, I care not. For it is well known, that neither ambitious, nor lucrative motives led me to accept my present appointment; in the discharge of which, I have endeavoured to observe one steady and uniform conduct, which I shall invariably pursue, while I have the honour to command, regardless of the tongue of slander or detraction.”

  Washington never told anyone else how hurt he had been by Conway and his allies. Sharing that secret, he went on to assure Lafayette that the dissension he had complained about would be headed off. “The fatal tendency of disunion is so obvious,” he said, that he had “in earnest terms” urged officers who were complaining about Conway’s promotion “to be cool and dispassionate in their decision upon the matter.” He hoped that they will not “suffer any hasty determination to injure the service. At the same time, it must be acknowledged that officers’ feelings upon these occasions are not to be restrained, although you may controul their actions.”

  He closed with some fatherly advice. “The other observations contained in your letter,” he said, “have too much truth in them, and it is much to be lamented that things are not now as they formerly were; but we must not, in so great a contest, expect to meet with nothing but sunshine.” He had no doubt “but that every thing happens so for the best; that we shall triumph over all our misfortunes, and shall, in the end, be ultimately happy; when, my dear marquis, if you will give me your company in Virginia, we will laugh at our past difficulties and the folly of others; where I will endeavour, by every civility in my power, to shew you how much and how sincerely, I am, your affectionate and obedient servant.”65

  Lafayette was overwhelmed with happiness. He answered at once, “I must tell you that I received this favor with the greatest satisfaction and pleasure. Every assurance and proof of your affection fills my heart with joy because that sentiment of yours is extremely dear and precious to me.” Then he tried to restrain himself. “A tender and respectful attachement for you,” he resumed, “and an invariable frankness will be discovered in my mind the more as you will know me better—but after those merits I must tell you that very few are to be found. I never wish’d so heartely to be intrusted by nature with an immensity of talents, than on this occasion where my frienship could then be of some use to your glory and happiness as well as to mine own.”

  He was still a glory-hunting boy. “What man do not join the pure ambition of glory with the other ambitions of advancement rank and fortune[?]” he asked. As an “ardent lover of laurels,” he could not “bear the idea that so noble a sentiment should be mixed with any low one. In your preaching moderation to the brigadiers upon such an occasion, I am not surprised to find your virtous character. As I hope my warm interest is known to your excellency, I dare entertain the idea that you will be so indulgent as to let me know every thing concerning you when ever you will not be under the law of secrecy or particular circumstances. With the most tender and affectionate friendship with the most profond respect.”66

  Once Washington gave Conway the stiff-arm, the generals and aides launched an all-out campaign to discredit him, Gates, and Mifflin. Greene, Knox, Sullivan, Stirling, Laurens, Hamilton, Tilghman, and others bombarded the world with angry letters, attacking the “cabal” and defending Washington. None showed as much outrage or was as energetic in his commander’s defense as Lafayette. “If Washington were lost,” he asked Henry Laurens, “what would become of American liberty?” He had plenty of company: all the commander in chief’s men united to destroy the opposition. “I am happy that the work is done,” Greene said; “I do not care who does it.”67

  Words such as “conspiracy,” “faction,” and “cabal” were loaded terms in America. Washington’s supporters made sure that important people knew about Conway’s letter to Gates. Thereafter few members of Congress would touch the inspector general. As one of them expressed their collective shock at the uprising: “I always before heard him mentioned as having great military abilities, and this was all I had ever heard concerning him. The kind of correspondence he carried on with General G——was not known at the time of his promotion.”
If Congress had known about that, it would not have appointed him. “A dissension among the principle officers of the army must be very injurious to the public interest,” he said. “The authority & credit of the commander in chief must be supported.”68

  Henry Laurens ended the uproar late in January 1778. He looked into the affair and interviewed Conway and Gates. He wrote John, who showed his letter to Washington and the other officers. The whole thing was mostly idle talk from a handful of malcontents, with only Conway and Mifflin showing any real malice to Washington. That ended the talk about cabals and plots among his officers. It did not stop them from claiming victory, however. “The poor and shallow politicians,” Greene crowed, “unmasked their batteries before they were ready to attempt execution.” Hamilton predicted that the conspiracy would go underground. “All the true and sensible friends to their country,” he warned, “and of course to a certain great man, ought to be upon the watch to counterplot the secret machinations of his enemies.”69

  There had never been a plot against Washington, however much his partisans claimed there was. The turmoil had some positive effects, among them leaving Washington almost immune from criticism for the remainder of the war. Nor would Congress again try to impose a high officer he did not want in his camp. The lawmakers became so sensitive about interfering in his command that its committees hesitated to visit Valley Forge.70

  Washington and Lafayette at Valley Forge, engraving by Hall from an earlier painting by Chappell. No other depiction conveys so well Washington’s paternal regard for his adopted son. (LILLY LIBRARY, INDIANA UNIVERSITY)

  De Kalb had rallied around Washington with the rest of the officers. It occurred to him that when the news of the controversy reached France, it might inspire de Broglie, generalissimo manqué. Forget it, he advised. There was no commander in America but Washington. “He will rather suffer in the opinion of the world than hurt his country,” he said; “he did and does more every day than could be expected from any general in the world…and I think him the only proper person…to keep up the spirits of the army and people, and I look upon him as the sole defender of his country’s cause.”71

  Washington emerged from the “Conway Cabal” solidly in control, with the commander in chief established as the sole military authority accountable to the civil power, founding a strong American tradition of separation between the military and political spheres. If the politicians wanted to know about the army, they would have to see him first.

  Lafayette would be at his side. Washington suffered all the grievances that have plagued senior commanders since the Trojan War: prima donna generals, uncooperative politicians, obnoxious foreigners interfering in his command, incompetent or unlucky subordinates, orders gone astray or misinterpreted or simply ignored, shortages of men and food and ammunition, temperamental allies, adored protégés who turned rebellious, uncertain support from the people, separation from his home and family, plots against his powers of command—all in the face of a resourceful and sometimes overwhelming enemy. Through it all, Lafayette gave him unwavering loyalty, truly filial devotion.

  SIX

  Oh American Freedom What Schall Become of You!

  (JANUARY–APRIL 1778)

  I think that we Americans, at least in the Southern colonies cannot contend with a good grace for liberty, until we shall have enfranchised our slaves. How can we whose jealousy has been alarmed more at the name of oppression than at the reality reconcile to our spirited assertions of the rights of mankind the galling abject slavery of our negroes?

  —JOHN LAURENS

  Lafayette, Laurens, and Hamilton killed time at Valley Forge by arguing into the night. Laurens was afire with beliefs about the rights of man and erupted in youthful outrage over the hypocrisy of his elders. Hamilton picked and chose his targets. Those that bothered Laurens the most, religious intolerance and slavery, were of little interest to him. He had crusades of his own, mostly against British tyranny. To him, “slavery” meant the injustices the London government wanted to impose on Americans. What Americans did to Africans did not trouble this young fellow, who had grown up in the West Indies, where slavery was at its worst.1

  Hamilton’s Anglo-Saxon passions struck Lafayette as cold and technical. Laurens’ Gallic outrage was something else. His storms against wrongs done to people struck a chord with the boy who had felt outcast in Versailles. He could understand the social pain of others, because he still wallowed in his own, and Laurens made him think about things that had never crossed his mind. Religious intolerance was a case in point. He was a nominal Catholic, but mostly he was indifferent. Laurens raged against persecution of people for their beliefs. His Huguenot forebears in France had suffered oppression until the Edict of Nantes in 1598 granted limited tolerance. Louis XIV revoked that in 1685, driving hundreds of thousands of Protestants, including his family, out of the country. It shocked Lafayette to learn that there were people in his homeland persecuted over things that he did not take seriously.

  Laurens compared every such situation to the Declaration of Independence and urged Lafayette to think about what he was really fighting for. The continuation of slavery, Laurens maintained, was the greatest hypocrisy when measured against the Declaration. Lafayette actually owned a slave, and when French troops took the West African slave factory of Senegal, he was elated. That victory over the British, he declared, was good news for America, because southerners had complained to him that British control of Senegal had interrupted “the Nigrò trade for that part of the United States.”2

  Laurens told him that America betrayed its own cause. He had learned much from his father, who had abandoned the slave trade in 1763 and often railed against its injustice, although he did not know how to free himself from the hundreds of slaves he owned. John described himself as not “one of those who dare trust in Providence for defence and security of their own liberty while they enslave and wish to continue in slavery thousands who are as well entitled to freedom as themselves.”3

  Slavery compromised American standing in Europe. “How is it that we hear the loudest yelps for liberty among the drivers of negroes?” the English curmudgeon Samuel Johnson asked. He had a point, Laurens believed. The American army also needed troops. By 1777 the northern states had expanded the recruitment of black men, offering freedom to them and compensation to their owners. Thousands of blacks served in the army during the war, and by its end the northern states were beginning to outlaw slavery.4

  On January 1, 1778, John Laurens sent his father two startling proposals. One was that he be authorized to return to South Carolina to recruit slaves for the army, to receive freedom at the end of the war. He would start with a company of forty men raised from Henry’s own plantations. The second was to prove to other southerners that their plantation economy could get along without slavery. He would lease a plantation from his father and operate it with free black labor. John told Lafayette about all this, and he kept it in mind.5

  John kept pressing his father, and in March 1779 Congress sent him south to recruit 3,000 slaves for the army, with Congress compensating their owners. Hamilton offered to help his friend out, giving abolitionist congressman John Jay his one significant statement on slavery. He thought that “in the present state of southern affairs” Laurens’ proposal made sense. He did not see how enough troops could be raised in the region otherwise. Liberation of the recruits was just an inducement to enlistment, giving them “their freedom with their muskets.” This would “secure their fidelity, animate their courage, and I believe will have a good influence upon those who remain.”

  Hamilton thought slaves would make good soldiers, but not because of human equality. “It is a maxim with some great military judges, that with sensible officers soldiers can hardly be too stupid.” He thought that black men’s “want of cultivation (for their natural faculties are probably as good as ours) joined to that habit of subordination which they acquire from a life of servitude, will make them sooner become soldiers than our whit
e inhabitants. Let officers be men of sense and sentiment, and the nearer the soldiers approach to machines perhaps the better.” There would be resistance to Laurens’ scheme, he predicted. However, “it should be considered, that if we do not make use of them in this way, the enemy probably will.”6

  So slaves would make good soldiers not because they would fight for liberty. Instead, they were available, might otherwise be lost to the enemy, and—most important—they had been beaten into the kind of obedience Hamilton believed soldiers must have.

  Laurens’ plans to raise a slave army were hopeless. Slave owners in South Carolina and Georgia refused to go along. He got himself elected to the Assembly but had no more success as a member. Eventually he returned to the army, but he never lost hope. In 1782 he tilted at the windmill again, but he died before anything could come of his renewed proposal.7

  Not long after he and Lafayette joined Washington’s headquarters, Laurens began pestering the commander in chief as well as his father on the slavery issue. Lafayette listened, but it was still too new to him. The time would come, however, when he also would bother his adoptive father on this subject.8

  I DO NOT ENTERTAIN MYSELF ANY IDEA OF LEAVING YOUR ARMY

  Congress heard late in 1777 that the French habitants in Canada were ripe for revolt against the British. As with yarns that had justified the invasion in 1775, these stories were false, but there were delegates who would not let go of their hope to add the northern provinces to the thirteen insurgent colonies. In January 1778 they plunged ahead with their enterprise, which would be independent of Washington’s Main Army, inspiring a belief in Washington’s camp that it was another round of the Conway Cabal. The Irish-Frenchman and his backers Gates and Mifflin were alleged to have cooked up the expedition as a way to separate Washington from his most ardent defender, Lafayette. In reality, many delegates honestly believed there was a chance for success and that French Canadians would welcome an invasion led by a French general. Two officers who met that description were Lafayette and Conway.9