Franklin was perfectly fair with Lafayette. He gave the young Frenchman the exact news he had received from America, information that Washington’s army of three thousand ragged and suffering men were retreating across New Jersey before the victorious and well-equipped troops of General Howe. He pointed out that the credit of the new republic was certain to sink lower and lower unless Washington should be able to win a victory and that at present it looked as if any such event was far away. And in view of all this Franklin, and Silas Deane also, was frank enough to tell Lafayette that his plan of aiding the United States at that particular time was almost foolhardy.

The Frenchman thanked them for their candor. “Until this moment, gentlemen,” said he, “I have only been able to show you my zeal in your struggle; now the time has come when that zeal may be put to actual use. I am going to buy a ship and carry your officers and supplies to America in it. We must show our confidence in the cause, and it is in just such a time of danger as this that I want to share whatever fortune may have in store for you.”

Franklin was immensely touched by the generosity of the young Marquis and told him so. But, practical man as he was, although he gladly accepted Lafayette’s offer, he pointed out that as the American agents were closely watched in Paris it would be better for Lafayette to work through third parties and in some other place than the French capital, if possible.

Lafayette took these suggestions. At once he found that it was extremely difficult to secure a ship without discovery by the English Ambassador. Here the Count de Broglie again gave him aid. He introduced the Marquis to Captain Dubois, the brother of his secretary, an officer in one of the King’s West Indian regiments, who happened to be at home on furlough at the time, and Lafayette engaged him as his agent. He sent him secretly to Bordeaux, the French seaport that was supposed to be safest from suspicion, and gave him the money to buy and supply a ship, the plan being that Captain Dubois should appear to be fitting out the vessel for the needs of his own regiment in the West Indies.

The needed repairs to the ship would take some time, and meanwhile, in order to escape all possible suspicion of his plans, Lafayette arranged with his cousin, the Prince de Poix, to make a journey to England. The Marquis de Noailles, Lafayette’s uncle, was the French Ambassador to England, and he welcomed the two young noblemen with delight. Every one supposed that Lafayette had at last given up his wild schemes, and all the great houses of London were thrown open to him. He wrote of the amusement he felt at being presented to King George III., and of how much he enjoyed a ball at the house of Lord George Germain, the secretary for the colonies. At the opera he met Sir Henry Clinton, with whom he had a pleasant, friendly chat. The next time Sir Henry and he were to meet was to be on the field of arms at the Battle of Monmouth.

But he never took advantage of his hosts. He kept away from the English barracks and shipyards, though he was invited to inspect them. He was careful to a degree to avoid any act that might later be considered as having been in the nature of a breach of confidence. And after three weeks in the gay world of London he felt that he could brook no longer delay and told his uncle the Ambassador that he had taken a fancy to cross the Channel for a short visit at home.

His uncle opposed this idea, saying that so abrupt a departure would be discourteous to the English court, but Lafayette insisted. So the Marquis de Noailles finally offered to give out the report that his nephew was sick until the latter should return to London. Lafayette agreed. “I would not have proposed this stratagem,” he said later, “but I did not object to it.”

The voyage on the Channel was rough and Lafayette was seasick. As soon as he reached France he went to Paris and stayed in hiding at the house of Baron de Kalb. He had another interview with the American agents and sent out his directions to the men who were to sail with him. Then he slipped away to Bordeaux, where he found the sloop Victory, bought by Captain Dubois with Lafayette’s money, and now ready for the voyage across the Atlantic.

Lafayette, however, could not sail away from France under his own name, and as a permit was required of every one leaving the country, a special one had to be made out for him. This is still kept at Bordeaux, and describes the passenger on the sloop as “Gilbert du Mottie, Chevalier de Chavaillac, aged about twenty, rather tall, light-haired, embarking on the Victory, Captain Lebourcier commanding, for a voyage to the Cape on private business.” His name was not very much changed, for he was really Gilbert du Motier and also the Chevalier de Chavaniac, but probably a careless clerk, who had no concern in this particular young man’s affairs, made the mistakes in spelling, and so aided Lafayette’s disguise.

But all was not yet smooth sailing. Lord Stormont, the English Ambassador, heard of Lafayette’s departure from Paris and also of his plans to leave France, and at once protested to the King. Lafayette’s father-in-law likewise protested, and no sooner had the young nobleman arrived in Bordeaux than royal officers were on his track. The French government did not want him to sail, no matter how much it might secretly sympathize with the young republic across the ocean.