Meantime, as the Victory was spreading her sails on the broad Atlantic, Benjamin Franklin was writing to the American Congress. This was what he said: “The Marquis de Lafayette, a young nobleman of great family connections here and great wealth, is gone to America in a ship of his own, accompanied by some officers of distinction, in order to serve in our armies. He is exceedingly beloved, and everybody’s good wishes attend him. We cannot but hope he may meet with such a reception as will make the country and his expedition agreeable to him. Those who censure it as imprudent in him, do, nevertheless, applaud his spirit; and we are satisfied that the civilities and respect that may be shown him will be serviceable to our affairs here, as pleasing not only to his powerful relations and the court, but to the whole French nation. He has left a beautiful young wife; and for her sake, particularly, we hope that his bravery and ardent desire to distinguish himself will be a little restrained by the General’s prudence, so as not to permit his being hazarded much, except on some important occasion.”
The Victory was not a very seaworthy ship. Lafayette had been swindled by the men who had sold the sloop to his agent; she was a very slow craft, and was poorly furnished and scantily armed. Her two small cannon and small stock of muskets would have been a poor defense in case she had been attacked by any of the pirates who swarmed on the high seas in those days or by the English cruisers who were looking for ships laden with supplies for America.
In addition to the defects of his ship Lafayette soon found he had other obstacles to cope with. He discovered that the captain of the Victory considered himself a much more important person than the owner and meant to follow his own course.
The papers with which the ship had sailed from Spain declared that her destination was the West Indies. But ships often sailed for other ports than those they were supposed to, and Lafayette wanted to reach the United States as quickly as he could. He went to the captain and said, “You will please make your course as direct as possible for Charlestown in the Carolinas.”
“The Carolinas, sir!” exclaimed the captain. “Why, I cannot do that. The ship’s papers are made out for the West Indies and will only protect us if we sail for a port there. I intend to sail for the West Indies, and you will have to get transportation across to the colonies from there.”
Lafayette was amazed. “This ship is mine,” he declared, “and I direct you to sail to Charlestown.”
But the captain was obstinate. “I am the master of this ship, sir,” said he, “and responsible for its safety. If we should be caught by an English cruiser and she finds that we are headed for North America with arms and supplies, we shall be made prisoners, and lose our ship, our cargo, and perhaps our lives. I intend to follow my sailing-papers and steer for the West Indies.”
No one could be more determined than Lafayette, however. “You may be master of the Victory, Captain Leboucier,” said he, “but I am her owner and my decision is final. You will sail at once and by the directest course for the port of Charlestown in the Carolinas or I shall deprive you instantly of your command and place the mate in charge of the ship. I have enough men here to meet any resistance on your part. So make your decision immediately.”
The captain in his turn was surprised. The young owner was very positive and evidently not to be cajoled or threatened. So Leboucier complained and blustered and argued a little, and finally admitted that it was not so much the ship’s papers as her cargo that he was troubled about. He owned that he had considerable interest in that cargo, for he had smuggled eight or nine thousand dollars’ worth of goods on board the Victory and wanted to sell them in the West Indies and so make an extra profit on the side for himself. The real reason why he didn’t want to be caught by an English cruiser was the danger of losing his smuggled merchandise.
“Then why didn’t you say so at first?” Lafayette demanded. “I would have been willing to help you out, of course. Sail for the port of Charlestown in the Carolinas; and if we are captured, searched, robbed, or destroyed by any English cruisers or privateers I will see that you don’t lose a sou. I will promise to make any loss good.”