The interesting session of Congress during which Jay's treaty had been the chief topic of debate, was now drawing to a close, and Washington looked to the brief period of repose from public duties, at Mount Vernon, that would succeed the legislative turmoil, with the greatest pleasure. That moment of release came on the first day of June, when the Congress adjourned.
The president's thoughts now turned toward his long-tried friends, and the sweet enjoyments of private life toward which he was hastening. Among the former, the Marquis de Lafayette held a prominent place in his heart. He was yet a prisoner in a far-off dungeon, and his family in exile. Feeble was the arm of any man to give him liberty, especially one stretched toward him from the new republic beyond the sea. Yet Washington left no means untried to liberate his friend. Compelled by circumstances and state policy to be cautious, he was, nevertheless, persevering in his efforts. He well knew that his formal interposition in behalf of the illustrious captive would be unavailing. But he employed the American ministers at European courts in expressing, on every convenient opportunity, unofficially, the interest which the president took in the fate of his friend, and to use every fair means in their power to obtain his release.
While Lafayette was in the hands of the Prussian authorities, James Marshall was sent to Berlin as a special and confidential agent to solicit his discharge. Before Marshall's arrival, Lafayette had been delivered by the king of Prussia into the hands of the emperor of Germany. Mr. Pinckney, the United States minister in London, was then instructed to indicate the wishes of the president concerning the prisoner, to the Austrian minister in England, and to solicit the powerful mediation of the British cabinet. These efforts failed, and Washington, disdaining to make further application to the deputies of sovereignty, whose petty tyranny was proverbial, determined to go to the fountain-head of power in the dominion where his friend was suffering, and, on the fifteenth of May, he wrote as follows to the emperor of Germany:—
“It will readily occur to your majesty, that occasions may sometimes exist, on which official considerations would constrain the chief of a nation to be silent and passive in relation even to objects which affect his sensibility, and claim his interposition as a man. Finding myself precisely in this situation at present, I take the liberty of writing this private letter to your majesty, being persuaded that my motives will also be my apology for it.
“In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong and cordial sense of the services rendered to them by the Marquis de Lafayette; and my friendship for him has been constant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, that I should sympathize with him and his family in their misfortunes, and endeavor to mitigate the calamities which they experience; among which, his present confinement is not the least distressing.
“I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me only to submit to your majesty's consideration, whether his long imprisonment, and the confiscation of his estates, and the indigence and dispersion of his family, and the painful anxieties incident to all these circumstances, do not form an assemblage of sufferings which recommend him to the mediation of humanity? Allow me, sir, on this occasion to be its organ, and to entreat that he may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions, and under such restrictions, as your majesty may think it expedient to prescribe.
“As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under similar circumstances, I would not grant, your majesty will do me the justice to believe, that this request appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magnanimity and wisdom which form the basis of sound policy and durable glory.
“May the Almighty and Merciful Sovereign of the universe keep your majesty under his protection and guidance.”
This letter was transmitted to Mr. Pinckney, and by him sent to the emperor, through his minister in Great Britain. “How far it operated,” says Marshall, “in mitigating immediately the rigor of Lafayette's confinement, or in obtaining his liberation, remains unascertained.”
Washington left Philadelphia for Mount Vernon on the thirteenth of June, accompanied by his family, and remained there about two months. During that retirement he made his final arrangements for leaving public life for ever at the close of his term of office, which would occur in March following. We have observed his great reluctance to consent to a second nomination for the chief-magistracy of the republic. The best interests of the commonwealth seemed to require the sacrifice on his part, and it was given, but with a full determination not to yield again, unless there appeared greater danger hovering over his beloved country, which his instrumentality might avert. To this determination he had adhered; and it was always with inexpressible satisfaction that he looked forward to the day when his public labors should cease. But, for cogent reasons, he never made this declaration publicly, until within the last few months of his second administration. His confidential friends well knew his determination, however, and the people generally suspected it. “Those who dreaded a change of system,” says Marshall, “in changing the person of the chief-magistrate, manifested an earnest desire to avoid this hazard, by being permitted once more to offer to the public choice a person, who, amidst all the fierce conflicts of party, still remained the object of public veneration.” But his resolution was fixed. The safety of the nation did not, at that time, seem to require him to remain at its head, notwithstanding there were many and great perils besetting it; and while he was at Mount Vernon he completed the final draft of a “Farewell Address to the people of the United States,” to be published in time for them to choose his successor at the appointed season.