Some years after he had slumbered under the clods of the valley, Gen. Washington visited his grave. He contemplated it thoughtfully for a few moments and remarked—"So there lies the brave De Kalb—the generous stranger who came from a distant land to fight our battles and to water the tree of our liberty with his blood. Would to God he had lived to share its fruits."
In 1780 Congress caused a monument to be erected to his memory in Annapolis, Maryland, with the following inscription,
Sacred to the memory of the
BARON DE KALB,
Knight of the royal order of Military Merit,
Brigadier of the armies of France,
and
Major General
In the service of the United States of America.
Having served with honor and reputation
For three years,
He gave a last and glorious proof of his attachment
to the liberties of mankind
And the cause of America,
In the action near Camden in the State of South Carolina
On the 16th of August 1780,
Where, leading on the troops of the
Maryland and Delaware lines
Against superior numbers
And animating them by his examples
To deeds of valor,
He was pierced with many wounds
And on the nineteenth following expired
In the 48th year of his age.
The Congress
Of the United States of America,
In gratitude to his zeal, services and merit,
Have erected this monument.
GILBERT MOTTIER DE LA FAYETTE.
Patriotism is one of the noblest attributes of man. It is the soul of freedom—the fulcrum of liberty—the lever of independence. It soars sublimely above self—is prompted by honest motives—aims at glorious ends. It is the motive power of philanthropy and would gladly consolidate the human family in one harmonious universal brotherhood by the heavenly law of love which can fraternize the world. It is opposed to all oppression—abhors all tyrants—rejoices in the promulgation of liberal principles. Its desires to do good are diffusive as the sun light—it is not confined to country—nation or caste. No sectarianism can swerve it—no monarch suppress it—no obstacle paralyze it. The patriot may be crushed in person by illegitimate power—the principle—never. Chains and dungeons will kindle it to a brighter flame—persecution will increase its volume. The history of all time proves the truth of these assertions—they form a corollary firm as the perpetual hills—incontrovertible as the problems of Euclid. The man who is destitute of this noble attribute is a mere automaton. There is a vacuum in his soul which nature abhors and all despise—except kings, aristocrats and demagogues. Patriotism is the dread incubus that hangs over thrones. The true patriot delights to see all basking in the refulgent rays of rational liberty and is ever ready to peril life and fortune in the cause of equal rights whenever the people of any nation rise in their native dignity to reclaim them from oppressors.
Thus it was with Gilbert Mottier de La Fayette, born on the 6th of September 1757 at the castle Chavaniac in Auvergne. Soon after the birth of this son, his father fell at the battle of Minden. As childhood dawned upon young La Fayette he exhibited talents of unusual strength and vigor. Under the genial rays of science they rapidly burst from embryo—budded, blossomed and ripened into fruit of the most perfect kind. At the age of seven years he was placed in the college of Louis le Grand at Paris. His rapid progress in the elements of his education exceeded the fondest anticipations of his numerous friends. By his modesty, urbanity and innate goodness of heart he gained the esteem of all who knew him. He graduated at an early age and was made a page to the queen and soon rose to the rank of a commissioned officer—an honor then conferred upon none but those presumed to possess superior merit and talent. At the age of seventeen he married the Countess Anastatie de Noailles—one of the most beautiful and amiable ladies of France. With kindred spirits they united splendid fortunes sufficient to support them in princely style through a long life. They were in the enjoyment of all the pleasures earth could give—favorites at the gayest court in Europe—caressed and beloved by those they held most dear—an ornament to every circle in which they moved. Mutual esteem gave a rich zest to every enjoyment—their social felicity was complete. All things combined to rivet La Fayette to his happy—his enchanting home. Nothing but the loftiest patriotism—the purest philanthropy could have induced him to burst these infatuating bands and peril his life, fortune and sacred honor in the cause of human rights in a foreign country.
Amidst the fascinating allurements that surrounded him, this noble youth paused, reflected and reasoned. Through the bright vista of the future Columbus saw the cheering vision of a new world. Through the same clear mirror La Fayette saw the sun of freedom reflecting its refulgent rays over Columbia's prolific land. A band of patriots had sounded the clarion of liberty. Echo had wafted it from Bunker's bloody mount to the ears of this young hero. The thought that there was a remnant left in the world who dared to assume their native dignity and strike for their just rights enraptured his soul. Contrary to the wishes of his friends and the King of the French, he resolved to fly to the aid of the oppressed Americans and participate in the unfading glory of planting the standard of freedom in the western hemisphere. Nor did he split on the rock of resolves and re-resolves where many waste away their lives. He at once proposed to the American Commissioners, then in Paris, to enter the army of Washington. They informed him of the recent adverses of those who were struggling for Liberty. They could present no bright picture to induce him to hope for laurels or emolument. It was not necessary. Nobler motives incited him to action. He still resolved to go. Anxious as were Messrs. Franklin, Dean and Lee to secure his services, they had not the means to convey him to the scene of action. Obstacles of various kinds were vainly thrown across his path. Impelled to an onward course by the noble impulses of patriotism—no difficulties were too great for him to surmount—no hardships too severe for him to endure, no sacrifice of wealth too large for him to make. Embarrassments strengthened the resolution he had formed to enroll his name with the brave and the free, even should he perish in the attempt.
He immediately fitted out a vessel at his own expense—freighted it with munitions of war and clothing—received letters of high commendation from the American commissioners to the Congress of their bleeding country and embarked secretly for the land of the pilgrim fathers in the winter of 1777. He then looked forward with anxious solicitude to that happy day when he should aid in unfurling the banner of freedom—in planting deep the tree of liberty in a soil congenial to its growth and take by the hand those bold and daring sages and heroes who had thrown the stars and stripes to the breeze in defiance of despotism—resolved on freedom or death. Nothing short of a deep, strong, inherent devotion to liberal principles could have induced La Fayette to leave his native country under the existing circumstances and peril everything in behalf of strangers. In vain we search history for a benevolence so broad and disinterested. Call it ambition if you please. Would to God the same laudable ambition reigned triumphant in the breast of every human being. We should then see tyrants trembling—thrones crumbling—crowns falling—fetters bursting and the grand jubilee of freedom celebrated amidst the expiring groans of monarchy—the chaotic ruins of tyranny. Call it a thirst for glory. Would to God that all who have figured largely on the grand theatre of public action could have the same glory emblazoned on the escutcheon of their names. A purer, fairer sheet of biography would then meet the eyes of the present and generations to come.
On the 25th of April 1777 Lafayette and his companions landed in South Carolina near Charleston and were warmly welcomed by Gen. Moultrie, Major Huger and the little band of veterans around them. The destitute condition of the American soldiers excited the sympathy of the Marquis. He distributed clothing to those under Gen. Moultrie and a sword to each of his officers. From Charleston he hastened to Philadelphia and delivered his letters and despatches from the American Commissioners to Congress. He offered himself as a volunteer—desiring to enter the army with no remuneration except the proud satisfaction of enrolling his name with the brave heroes whose motto was—Liberty or Death. His unassuming manners, patriotic sentiments, stern resolution, devotedness to the cause and dignified bearing—combined to inspire confidence in all who made his acquaintance. In July Congress passed a resolution accepting his services and commissioned him a Major-General in the Continental army. He immediately placed himself under the supervision of Washington and commenced a brilliant career that gained increased lustre during a long life of usefulness. Shortly after he entered the service he acted a conspicuous part in the battle of Brandywine where he was wounded and disabled for six weeks. In the battle of Germantown he proved himself a cool, brave and skilful officer. He soon gained the full confidence of Washington and was put in command of a choice corps of daring young men selected by himself and was entrusted with several expeditions which he conducted with great prudence and success and to the entire satisfaction of Washington and Congress. On all occasions he exhibited talents of the highest order. Discretion—the strong helm of human action, guided him in all his actions.