It was a discomfited but not a despairing young warrior who returned in April to Valley Forge. But joy was before him. The Cabal had vanished before the storm of loyalty to Washington that gathered when the conspiracy was discovered. Moreover, Lafayette received from Congress a testimonial, saying that they entertained a high sense of his prudence, his activity, and his zeal, and they believed that nothing would have been wanting on his part, or on the part of the officers who accompanied him, to give the expedition the utmost possible effect, if Congress had not thought it impracticable to prosecute it further. Better still, on the 2d of May came the great news that a treaty of commerce and alliance had been signed between France and the United States of America.

This event caused a wild wave of joy to spread over the whole country. This treaty assured the permanence of the United States as a nation. To be sure, the war with England must still be carried on, but now that France was an ally they would have more hope and courage.

In the doleful camp at Valley Forge there was the sincerest gratification and delight. A national salute of thirteen cannon was ordered; a thanksgiving sermon was preached; a fine dinner was served for the officers, and the table was made more delightful by the presence of Mrs. Washington, Lady Stirling, Mrs. Greene, and other wives and daughters of generals.

Lafayette took part in these scenes of rejoicing, but there was a reason why, underneath it all, his heart was heavy. Almost with the letters announcing the joyous news of the treaty, came others telling him of the death, in October, 1777, of his little daughter Henriette, of whom he had said that he hoped their relationship would be more that of friends than of parent and child. This happiness was not to be theirs. Lafayette now thought that he had never realized before what it meant to be so far away from his home. The thought of Henriette and of the grief of Adrienne, which he was not able by his presence to help assuage, was with him every moment of the day; but even while his heart was heavy with grief, he felt that he must attend and bear his part in the public rejoicings.


CHAPTER VIII

Lafayette at Monmouth

THE alliance with France put a new color upon every phase of the American contest. If, for instance, a French fleet should be already on its way across the Atlantic, and should enter Chesapeake Bay and threaten Philadelphia, the English would have to evacuate that city and retire to New York, risking the danger of being intercepted on the way by Washington's army. In view of such a possibility as this, the commander in chief of the American army held a council of war in which it was decided that they were not strong enough to risk a decisive engagement. It was, however, highly important that exact information should be gained as to the movements of the British around Philadelphia. In order that this might be accomplished, General Washington detached a group of soldiery from among the most able and valued of his army, and put them under Lafayette, with instructions to proceed into the country between the Delaware and Schuylkill, and there interrupt communications with Philadelphia, obstruct the incursions of the enemy's parties, and obtain intelligence of their motives and designs.

Lafayette was overjoyed at being chosen for so important a charge; and on the 24th of May, 1778, he started out with about twenty-two hundred men. His force included the band of Iroquois warriors who had come from Albany to follow his fortunes, and who, because of their knowledge of forest-craft, were invaluable as scouts. The British could command about four times as many soldiers as had been assigned to Lafayette, but their intention was to keep the American force out of their way and, if possible, to avoid a direct encounter.

For his camp Lafayette selected a piece of rising ground near the eleventh milestone north of Philadelphia, where there was a church, a grave-yard, and a few stone houses that might afford some protection in case of attack, and where four country roads led out to the four points of the compass. The place was called Barren Hill—name of ill-omen! But the fate of the day proved not altogether unfortunate for the young and intrepid commander.