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  The general continued for page after page, summarizing the events of the year, news of mutual friends, and the disputes among Americans Lafayette had complained about. Then he answered the marquis’ invitation to France. To meet him anywhere would give him the greatest pleasure, but he reminded his young friend that he did not speak French. He was “too far advanced in years to acquire a knowledge of it—and that to converse through the medium of an interpreter upon common occasions, especially with the ladies must appr. so extremely awkward—insipid—& uncouth—that I can scarce beat it in idea. I will therefore hold myself disengaged for the present and when I see you in Virginia—we will talk of this matter & fix our plans.”

  Lafayette would renew his invitation often, and every time Washington turned it aside with similar excuses. As long as the war continued, there was no question of his leaving the country. After the war was not feasible, either. The general knew how the British dealt with rebels. If they ever got their hands on him, his head would decorate a pike on London Bridge. He did not have the heart to tell the young man that.

  Washington continued, and continued, until he said, “But to conclude—you requested from me a long letter. I have given you one. But methinks, my dear Marquis, I hear you say there is reason in all things—that this is too long. I am clearly in sentiment with you & will have mercy on you in my next. But at present must pray your patience a while longer, till I can make a tender of my most respectful compliments to the Marchioness.”

  Answering Adrienne’s expressions of love, as relayed by Lafayette, Washington revealed a playfulness and self-mocking humor that no one else ever drew out of him: “Tell her (if you have not made a mistake,& offered your own love instead of hers to me) that I have a heart susceptable of the tenderest passion, & that it is already so strongly impressed with the most favourable ideas of her, that she must be cautious of putting love’s torch to it; as you must be in fanning the flame. But here again methinks I hear you say, I am not apprehensive of danger—my wife is young—you are growing old & the Atlantic is between you. All this is true, but know my good friend that no distance can keep anxious lovers long asunder, and that the wonders of former ages may be revived in this. But alas!” Difference in their years might stand between the old Washington and the young Adrienne, “[y]et, under the encouragement you have given me I shall enter the list for so inestimable a jewell.”

  Finally winding down, he said, “When I look back to the length of this letter, I am so much astonished & frightened at it myself, that I have not the courage to give it a careful reading for the purpose of correction. You must therefore receive it with all its imperfections—accompanied with this assurance…there is not a single defect in the friendship of my dear Marquis.” Like Lafayette, he would not “leave the pen,” but finally, exhausted, he could pour out no more.37

  The marquis would not receive this letter for some months. He pounded Vergennes with plans and revisions of plans and revisions of revisions, all about sending a French army to join Washington. Much of his verbiage reflected diplomatic concerns that the Americans would not welcome such help. On August 13, 1779, he suggested making up most of the expeditionary force by assigning tall and disciplined grenadiers who would appeal to the allies, because “country people, understand waging war in the woods better than any other European corps, and if I ask for a larger proportion of them it is because…we must show some good moral and physical specimens of our nation.”

  Lafayette worried about advice from Gérard and others that France should not send an expedition until the Americans asked for it formally. The marquis objected, claiming to speak for Washington and Americans in general. By the middle of September, Vergennes was worn down. He did not know what could be done regarding America, the foreign minister told him. “It is obvious that the concern for America’s welfare requires that troops be sent, but that alone would not be doing enough. If it is possible, one must take even longer views.” News of Stony Point had heartened him, along with that of French victories in the West Indies. He invited Lafayette to Versailles, to talk about it all with the government.38

  The continued delays in the invasion of England—it would not be formally abandoned until November 1779, when d’Orvilliers went completely insane, and no other high officer wanted to touch the undertaking—had persuaded Vergennes that the best use of French forces would be in the Western Hemisphere. So had Lafayette’s badgering.

  The foreign minister had been influenced by propaganda celebrating the valor of American militia, alleged high spirits and unity in the thirteen states, the determination of the Continental Army, and the genius of Washington. Lafayette’s reports had given him some realism to temper the fantasy, however. Vergennes saw that the American army and its cause were on the verge of disintegration. The only solution was what Lafayette had proposed—send money, supplies, troops, and ships. Not everyone in the French government agreed. Some ministers and high officers rejected any intelligence that came from Lafayette because he was “Americanized.” Vergennes had decided to go along with the marquis, but a decision and plan from the whole government were some months away.39

  So Lafayette returned to Le Havre and fretted. In early October he sent a formal report to Congress. Beyond thanking the members for his sword, he did not have much to say. He wanted to be recalled to America, to serve “under American colours, among my fellow soldiers, and take orders from our great and heroïc general.”40

  Lafayette also wrote to Washington, frustration and loneliness bleeding from his pen. “How unhappy I am to find myself so far from you…you will easely conceive,” he wailed. His “impression of sorrow” was no longer relieved by his earlier belief that he would be more useful to the United States in France than in America. Regretting that he had stayed in France, in other words, he wanted Washington’s approval for decisions that had turned out wrong. “I hope, my dear sir, you will agree in opinion with me.”

  What Lafayette most wanted was to return to Washington’s side. “But permit me to tell you again, how earnestly I wish to join you. Nothing could make me so delighted as the happiness of finishing the war under your orders.” He asked his adoptive father to get him a formal recall. “However happy I am in France…I have taken such an habit of being with you, and am tied to you…by such an affection, that the moment where I will sail for your country, shall be one of the most wished for and the happiest in my life.”

  The marquis concluded, “Oh, my dear general, how happy I would be to embrace you again! With such an affection as is above all expressions any language may furnish I have the honor to be very respectfully my good and beloved general your affectionate friend Lafayette.”41

  The republican principles Washington was fighting for were beginning to sink into Lafayette’s outlook. When King Louis freed the serfs on his royal domains in September 1779, he urged the nobles to follow his lead. The marquis did not know if he owned any such people, vassals bound to the soil and subject to the will of their lords (as opposed to tenant farmers, who paid rent and could leave). He asked his lawyer to check it out. There were none on his lands in Brittany or Touraine, but he could learn nothing about the estates in Auvergne. However vaguely, there was something about this relic of feudalism that troubled the young marquis.42

  In November, after hearing about unrest in the Irish Parliament among the feudal overlords of that British province, Lafayette told Franklin, “Nobility is but an insignificant kind of people for revolutions. They have no notions of equality betwen men, and they want to govern, they have too much to looze—good Presbiterian farmers would go on with more spirit than all the noblemen of Ireland.” He deplored France’s unwillingness to help the Irish. “My military countrymen don’t know how to manage republican interests.”43

  This was his first denunciation of aristocrats. He was talking about Ireland, but his concerns applied to the United States, France’s republican ally. There was a change under way in Lafayette’s worldview. He saw republics on their o
wn terms, no longer as tools for serving French interests. Most important, he no longer assumed that the French government could manage any situation involving a republic, so long as French soldiers carried out its orders.

  Not giving up on the idea of sending a French army to America, in the fall of 1779 Lafayette threw his weight behind Franklin’s request for loans to buy clothing and munitions. He leaned on Vergennes to approve the request, wanting Washington to get the resources to fight his war with or without French troops. When he learned of the disastrous attack on Savannah, he predicted that Americans would be dissatisfied with France’s contributions to the war. The news, he told the foreign minister, would have a “bad effect on America.” Franklin had his money by the end of the month.44

  Lafayette received some happy news on the day before Christmas 1779. He had hardly seen Adrienne for months, except when he visited Paris, as she suffered ill health and a difficult pregnancy. On December 24 she wrote him with cold formality, announcing that he had a son. “Accept my compliments, Monsieur le Marquis,” she began. “They are very sincere and very real. America will celebrate with illuminations, and I think Paris should do the same. The number of persons who resemble you is so small that it is public good fortune to see it increase…. M. le Maréchal [her grandfather] will no longer say that we give him only girls.”45

  Lafayette was at Passy. Chastened by his wife’s tone, he headed to Paris to spend a few days with her. Before he left, he sent birth announcements to Franklin and Adams. “I don’t loose any time in informing you,” he crowed. “The boy shall be call’d George, and you will easely gess that he bears that name as a tribute of respect and love for my dear friend Gal. Washington.” George-Washington Lafayette he would be.46

  I SHALL TELL YOU FRANKLY THAT WE ARE WASTING PRECIOUS TIME

  Once the loan to America was approved, Lafayette requisitioned muskets and powder to add to clothing already purchased for shipment. That set off a row between Vergennes and the war minister, the prince de Montbarey, with the foreign minister supporting the marquis’ case. Lafayette still thought sending an expeditionary force across the Atlantic was the best idea. He resumed shuttling among the various ministers and Adams and Franklin, reminding one and all that a British fleet in American waters threatened French possessions in the West Indies. He got the guns and powder, but he had made an enemy of Montbarey.47

  Lafayette spent January 1780 making himself the pest of Versailles. Whenever he went to talk to the prime minister, Maurepas was too busy to see him. Only Vergennes was on his side, so Lafayette sent Maurepas a long letter, reminding the prime minister that the previous summer “I was asked for my view on a new campaign in America,” adroitly interpreting the minister’s refusal to receive him as a request for further advice. Reviewing the failure to invade England and other setbacks, he said these events could further damage American finances. Enemy raids could make everything worse, with the British navy roaming without challenge. French assistance could double the force and strength of Washington’s army, he claimed. “Nevertheless…since you approve of assistance of this kind, I shall tell you frankly that we are wasting precious time and that military preparations should have begun already.”

  That was cheeky, almost insubordinate, but Lafayette was so famous that he thought he could get away with anything. And he did, as usual for page after page, demolishing all objections to sending an expeditionary force to America. He outlined a plan to send troops, with himself in command, wearing either an American uniform or a French one. There his corps would be “a part of the American army” under Washington’s command. He told Vergennes that the situation in America was serious. Although there were divisions in Congress, all its members agreed that more help was needed from France.48

  This amazing performance swept away the last objections among the ministers. They had their own reasons for wanting to send an army and navy to America, but Lafayette talked them into doing it. They must have worried—America was an uncertain ally. They were about to risk major parts of their army and navy at a great distance on the word of an excitable, annoying upstart, as many officers viewed him. Some wondered whether he was arguing in his own interest rather than France’s. Some also wondered whether, if the marquis commanded the French troops, he would march them into a disaster.

  Vergennes told Lafayette that he had won, and asked him to set some issues down in writing before they all got together to work out the details. He wanted him to set forth arguments whether he should lead the French detachment, or retake command of an American division. He favored the first. If he was in command, Vergennes promised, the ministry could “proceed in complete security because the Americans know me too well for my presence to prompt any false anxieties” regarding French intentions. To answer fears in the war ministry that he was just angling for high rank in the French army, Vergennes suggested giving him a rank good only in America, or none at all “in order to put the ministry at ease.”

  As for the second choice, it was necessary first of all to forestall the bad effect that he said the arrival of another commander would produce in America. The idea that Lafayette was unable to lead this detachment “would be the last to present itself over there.” He would simply explain to Americans, therefore, that he preferred to command an American division. He ended with, “Conclusion. 1. I believe that it is better to give me this corps. 2. If it is not given to me, I must leave immediately with the resources I request. In either case, unfortunately, it is necessary to reveal this secret to me and to set to work promptly.”49

  Lafayette could not lose, because either choice would send him back to serve under Washington, and he wanted to get back to him on any terms. He was not in the least unhappy when he learned that someone else would get the job, nor even that some officers refused to go along if he was in command. He was going to be with Washington again, and that counted the most.

  There were several more experienced candidates for the command. De Broglie presented himself, but the Americans would not trust him. De Vaux was senior to everybody, but he was slowed by age. Then there was Jean-Baptiste-Donatien de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau. He was fifty-five years old, had been in the army since 1740, and carried many scars from many battles. He was a legendary combat leader but always had been under someone else’s command. Montbarey recommended him for the first independent command of his career. Since the war minister had lost so many recent arguments, the other ministers bowed to his wishes.

  Ruddy-faced, with a stocky figure, Rochambeau was the sort of battle-scarred veteran who had a habit of reminding others that he was a battle-scarred veteran. But his face always wore a placid, wise expression. He never quarreled, never plotted, and was firm without being stubborn or tyrannical. He got along with everybody, because he had the instincts of a born diplomat. Unlike d’Estaing, he was the perfect man for the American assignment and readily agreed to place himself under Washington’s orders. In return, the war ministry promoted him to the rank of lieutenant general so that he would outrank all French and American officers except Washington.

  Rochambeau had known Lafayette since the marquis was a baby, and liked him. But when the young general visited him to tell him how to get along in America, the older general remembered something else—the boy had a tendency toruffle his feathers. Still, they got along, and both hoped they would continue to do so on the far side of the ocean.50

  Jean-Baptiste-Donatien de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau, by C.W. Peale, 1782. Commander of the French army in America, he lost his temper over Lafayette’s behavior, but the marquis turned on his charm and they remained lifelong friends. (INDEPENDENCE NATIONAL HISTORICAL PARK)

  Lafayette was a whirlwind for the rest of February. He specified American uniforms for Franklin to purchase, sent his spies to answer questions posed by Adams, and belabored the minister of marine on how to organize the fleet that would take Rochambeau to America. He reminded the minister that Americans were sensitive about prestige, so he should tell his officer
s that “more honor should be shown to the uniform of an American general or the dignity of a state governor than would be shown to Imperial or Prussian officers of like rank.” French officers should be polite to citizens, respect civil officials, and give presents to the Indians. The minister agreed to it all.51

  Lafayette told Franklin that he expected to sail from Rochefort in early March 1780, in a frigate. He could take clothing for 4,000 men with him, and asked him to forward 15,000 stand of arms with accoutrements. He should be able to send clothing for another 6,000 men on other ships, and he had sent Vergennes specifications for winter clothing to be sent later. Franklin was happy to hear all that, but he was running out of money because Congress had spent most of the latest French loan. Moreover, Montbarey told him that the war ministry could not meet all his requests.52

  “There is armament preparing with the greatest expedition,” Adams advised Henry Laurens, “and to consist of eight or ten ships of the line and frigates…with several thousand men; all numbers are mentioned from six to ten thousand.” The French were likely to be drawn into the American seas in sufficient force to have “great advantages in carrying out the war.”53

  He was too optimistic. The orders to the army and navy on February 24, 1780, called for about 6,000 regular infantry. When Rochambeau left on May 2 in seven ships of the line, two frigates, and other small armed ships, there was a shortage of transports. He left behind two regiments, part of his artillery, and part of the duc de Lauzun’s legion, which would follow later as a “second division.” Worse, Spain refused to cooperate. She was France’s ally but would not become an ally of the United States, which she saw as a future rival for the Mississippi River.54