II
“WAKE UP! I’M GOING TO AMERICA TO FIGHT FOR FREEDOM!”
Although the young Marquis had deliberately given up a career at court, there was every promise of his having a brilliant career in the army. Soon after his famous speech to the King’s brother, in August, 1775, he was transferred from his regiment of Black Musketeers to a command in what was known as the “Regiment de Noailles,” which had for its colonel a young man of very distinguished family, Monseigneur the Prince de Poix, who was a cousin of Lafayette’s wife.
The “Regiment de Noailles” was stationed at Metz, a garrison city some two hundred miles to the east of Paris. The commander of Metz was the Count de Broglie, a marshal and prince of France, who had commanded the French armies in the Seven Years’ War, in one of the battles of which Lafayette’s father had been killed. The Count de Broglie had known Lafayette’s father and had greatly admired him, and he did all he could to befriend the son, inviting him to all the entertainments he gave.
It happened that early in August the Count de Broglie gave a dinner in honor of a young English prince, the Duke of Gloucester, and Lafayette, in the blue and silver uniform of his rank, was one of the guests at the table. The Duke of Gloucester was at the time in disgrace with his brother, King George the Third of England, because he had dared to marry a wife whom King George disliked. The Duke was really in exile from England, and in the company of the French officers he had no hesitation in speaking his mind about his royal brother and even in poking fun at some of his plans. And the Duke made a special point of criticizing King George for his policy toward the colonists in America.
In that very year of the dinner-party at Metz, in the spring of 1775, a rebellion had broken out in the colonies, and there had actually been a fight between American farmers and British regulars at the village of Lexington in the colony of Massachusetts Bay. The Duke had received word of the obstinate resistance of the farmers—peasants, he called them—at Lexington and Concord, and of the retreat of Lord Percy and his troops to Boston. The Duke told the dinner-party all about the discomfiture of his royal brother, laughing heartily at it, and also related how in that same seaport of Boston the townspeople had thrown a cargo of tea into the harbor rather than pay the royal tax on it.
The Duke talked and Lafayette listened. The Duke spoke admiringly of the pluck of the American farmers, but pointed out that it was impossible for the colonists to win against regular troops unless experienced officers and leaders should help them. “They are poor, they are ill led,” said the Duke, “they have no gentlemen-soldiers to show them how to fight, and the king my brother is determined to bring them into subjection by harsh and forcible methods if need be. But my letters say that the Americans seem set upon opposing force with force, and, as the country is large and the colonies scattered, it certainly looks as if the trouble would be long and serious. If but the Americans were well led, I should say the rebellion might really develop into a serious affair.”
Most of the officers knew little about America; even Lafayette had only a vague idea about the colonies on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. But the Duke’s words stirred him deeply; he sat leaning far forward, his eyes shining with interest, his face expressing the closest attention.
Finally, as the guests rose from the table, Lafayette burst forth impetuously. “But could one help these peasants over there beyond the seas, monseigneur?” he asked the Duke.
The English prince smiled at the young Frenchman’s eagerness. “One could, my lord marquis, if he were there,” he answered.
“Then tell me, I pray you,” continued Lafayette, “how one may do it, monseigneur. Tell me how to set about it. For see, I will join these Americans; I will help them fight for freedom!”