Lafayette

Introduction

LAFAYETTE is a name which will always strike a responsive chord in the heart of every American, young or old; and this book is the life story of that young French nobleman, the great friend of America, who gave up, for the time being, his wife, his ancestral home and all that he held dear, in order to espouse the cause of a young and struggling nation.

From his earliest childhood, Lafayette saw all about him the evils of a system of monarchy which sorely oppressed the lower orders of society. He had always spoken openly against this injustice in France, and now that a chance had come for him to help an oppressed people rise, he seized it and gave himself and the major part of his fortune to the overthrow of a like system.

Fortunately for us, the Lafayette whose birthday we celebrate is not the portly man past middle life, but the romantic young zealot who believed in the cause of liberty and freedom. He was no young sprig of nobility seeking the applause of the multitude, he wanted to help America with all his heart and soul.

INTRODUCTION

The author has gathered from many sources the wealth of material which comprises this story. She has given us the great moments in the life of the Lafayette who will appeal to children, and she has told the story in a delightfully simple manner that is forceful and telling, and easily understood.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Scion of His Sires 11

II. As THE Twig is Bent 22

Chapter I

E will rest here, Prince, until Gaspard overtakes us, else he will think we are lost. It is warm, and I doubt not that you will be glad to stand. Is it not so, my pony?"

The speaker, a boy between eight and nine years of age, drew rein as he came out of the forest into a small upland moor, and leaning forward patted caressingly the neck of the sturdy little pony that he bestrode. He was a very small boy, thin and delicate in appearance, with large, hazel eyes, and bright red hair which shone ruddily below his small riding hat, intensifying the pallor of his face. His manner was remarkable for its gravity; the manner of a child who has been much among adults. In truth, Marie Jean Joseph Paul Ives Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette had no playmates of his own age, for he was the only child of his widowed mother, the Comtesse de Lafayette. It was an appalling name for

[ 11 1 such a little fellow, but at this time, 1766, it was the custom in France to bestow upon both boys and girls the names of distinguished ancestors. Therefore, as this lad was the scion of a most illustrious family, he bore many appellations. Simply told, his name was Gilbert Motier de Lafayette. Later in life he became known solely by the name of Lafayette. His mother and relatives called him Gilbert.

As the bridle fell loosely upon the pony's neck the animal began to crop the grass that grew sparsely in the midst of the purple heather and golden bloom of the moor, while his young master surveyed the interlaced branches of the forest or gazed searchingly into the dark recesses of the wood as though seeking for some sign of bird or beast.

It was a midsummer's day, very sultry even in the shade of the forest. There was a dull haze in the atmosphere through which the July sun beat with fierce heat. The air was close and heavy with that oppression which presages a storm. There was no stir of living thing in the underbrush. It was as though the denizens of the woods had sensed the approach of a tempest, and had retired to their coverts. Not a leaf rustled. It was quiet, extremely so, but the lad seemed to find nothing unusual in such stillness. Presently the silence was broken by an echoing shout:

"Master Gilbert! Master Gilbert, where are you?"

A twinkle came into the little fellow's eyes, and a smile curved his lips.

" Good Gaspard thinks me lost," he chuckled with a shrug of his slight shoulders. " As though I could get lost with Prince to guide me."

Then, as the halloo came again, he rose in his stirrups and called in a clear childish treble:

" Here I am, Gaspard. Here I am."

Almost instantly there came the deep-throated baying of a hound in the near distance, and a few moments later a man, astride a big bay horse, and followed by a large wolfhound, issued from the trees and rode into the clearing. The grayhaired figure did not draw rein until he had reached the lad's side, and laid a hand upon the pony's bridle.

" You should not have strayed from me. Master Gilbert," he reproved, his accents sharp with anxiety. " Here it hath been all of twenty minutes since last I saw you. What if aught had happened to you? "

*' But naught did happen, Gaspard. And what are twenty minutes?"

" In twenty minutes anything might happen in the mountains of Auvergne, Master Gilbert. The woods are filled with wild boars and wolves."

"And yet," remarked young Lafayette plaintively, "for full three hours have we ridden through them and not a wild thing has crossed our path. Why, not even a sign have we found of the big wolf that so troubles the village."

" For which heaven be praised," ejaculated the older man devoutly. "A desperate wolf is an ugly thing to encounter, and this wolf must be desperate else it would not venture into the village at this time of the year. Had I believed that we would meet it I should not have been persuaded into riding into the mountains in search of it. For you are bold to rashness. Master Gilbert."

"Would you have a Lafayette shrink from danger, Gaspard? "

"Ay! until he is old enough to care for himself," answered the other, speaking with the freedom of an old and affectionate servitor. " You are the last of your name and therefore should not recklessly endanger yourself. Beside, what would your mother do should aught of harm befall you? "

" My mother need fear naught while I am in your charge, Gaspard." Lafayette smiled as he laid his hand gently upon the attendant's knee. " Be not fearful, mon ami. I am not so reckless as you think. I could defend both you and myself if need were to arise. See you this weapon? "

As he spoke he threw back the short black riding cloak that he wore disclosing a holster containing a pistol buckled about his small waist. Old Gaspard's eyes opened wide at sight of it.

"Master Gilbert, where got you that weapon?" he demanded.

" It was my father's, good Gaspard. Desplaus taught me how to use it. I do quite well when I use both hands. So fear naught. I shall not seek danger, but if it come I shall know how to meet it." With a dignified gesture he let his cloak fall again over the pistol.

" You go too fast, too fast. Master Gilbert," grumbled Gaspard. " * A child should creep before he walks.' "

"A child? Pouf! I am a man." The boy's gravity dropped from him suddenly, and he laughed in delighted merriment at the effect he had produced. " Desplaus says that in another year I must begin to handle the sword."

Gaspard shook his head, and opened his lips to reply when a low mutter of thunder caused him to glance quickly at the sky.

" We must return to the chateau, Master Gilbert," he cried. "A storm is brewing, but if we take a short cut down the mountainside we may reach Chavaniac before it breaks."

"As you will," sighed the boy, turning his pony obediently. " But I would that we had found the wolf."

The wolf in question was one that had been annoying the peasants of the village belonging to the Chateau de Chavaniac. It had been glimpsed several times, and many tales were told of its unusual size and prowess. It killed the sheep, and so frightened the villagers that no woman or child dared venture forth alone after dark; and every man went armed with a pike or other weapon that he might be prepared to do battle with it. In spite of his tender years it was the boy's greatest desire to rid the people of this beast, and for this reason he had extended his rides more and more into the forest, thereby causing his faithful attendant the utmost uneasiness and apprehension.

So now as they rode back into the forest, unmindful of the darkening sky, the lad kept a keen outlook for any unusual stir in the underbrush, and followed with eagerness every movement of the wolfhound. It was an ancient wood that covered the mountains of Auvergne, for here were trees as old as history. So dense was the growth that the path that led down the mountainside — it could scarcely be called a road — was hardly discernible in the gathering shadows, but Gaspard took the lead with the sureness of knowledge.

Meantime the clouds lowered thick and black, and premonitory rumblings in the heavens betokened the rising of the storm. Though it was mid-afternoon the shadows under the dense foliage deepened into twilight. Gaspard's face was exceedingly grave as ominous mutterings from above warned him that the storm must soon break, and that it promised to be violent. A wild tempest sometimes brought sudden floods in the mountains of Auvergne. To be caught in one of the valleys in such a downpour would be dangerous in the extreme. The horses nickered in a frightened manner as they stimibled forward, and the hound no longer bounded in front of them but ran close to their heels.

*' We are in for a skin wetting, Master Gilbert," observed Gaspard with an apprehensive glance at his young master. "An old dog like me minds it not, but you — ^you may come to harm by it. We must try to find a shelter."

" 'Tis summer, Gaspard. A wetting will do no harm,"

" Perchance not, but " began Gaspard, but at this moment a flash illuminated the clouds. At the same instant a heavy peal of thunder rolled from tree to tree shaking the earth.

The heavens grew darker and darker. A clap of thunder more violent than the first rent the clouds, and the rain fell thick and drenching. The horses stopped of themselves and stood trembling violently as flash succeeded flash. With a low yelp the hound crept close to them and dropped trembling at their feet.

Gaspard slipped from his horse, and lifting young Lafayette from his pony drew him into his embrace in the endeavor to shield him from the downpour.

" We must find some sort of shelter until the force of the

[ 16 1 storm hath spent itself," he said, trying to peer into the dark recesses of the forest.

" Good Gaspard, look behind you," cried the boy as a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the scene. *' Is there not a rift in the rocks? Is it large enough for us to get into? Perchance that might give us the shelter you wish."

" I see." Gaspard turned and glanced at a dark and gloomy opening in the wall of rock which rose precipitately to the right of the path a short distance from them. " If its promise is good we shall be covered somewhat from the rain. But first, the horses."

Quickly tethering the anunals he passed his arm about the lad, and slowly they made their way over the ground, slippery from the rain, toward the opening in the rocks. It was a wide aperture, large enough to admit a man much bigger than Gaspard, and apparently led back into a cavern. Gaspard hesitated before the darkness of the entrance.

" We will let Pons explore it first," he began, then stopped short; for the hound had suddenly stiffened and stood with upstanding ears regarding the opening, growling low and menacingly the while.

The growling was answered with a snarl from the depths of the cavern, followed almost immediately by the appearance of a pair of yellow green eyes set in the head of a great yellow brown body.

" Pardieu, the wolf! " came from Gaspard in a hoarse shout as he thrust the lad behind him, and whipped out his hunting knife. " Stand back, Master Gilbert."

As he spoke the big wolf leaped for him, but the hound which seemed to have been waiting for the moment sprang for the beast, and deflected him from the impact. As the two animals came to the ground in a mighty struggle to get at each other's throat Gaspard bent over them, ready for the opportune thrust that should give victory to the dog. The moment came, and he thrust vigorously. With a howl of rage and pain the wolf tore himself from the grip of the dog and sprang upon his new adversary. The man staggered under the brute's weight, then recovered himself, and began to slash right and left with his knife. Snapping, snarling, clawing, the beast tore at the man in its agony. Again and again Gaspard thrust but seemed unable to free himself from the brute. At this juncture a little figure crept softly to his side, extended two small hands in which a pistol was gripped hard, and pressing the weapon close to the shaggy side of the wolf pulled the trigger. The report followed and with it came the smell of burning powder. The creature's great muscles relaxed, and it fell to the ground. A mighty spasm shook its frame, and then it lay still. A cry of exultation came from Gaspard, and he caught the lad in a great embrace.

"A child?" he cried. "Name of sense, no! You are a man, and have done a deed worthy of a Lafayette. You said that you could protect both you and myself, and ma foi! you have done it. Master Gilbert. You have slain the wolf."

"Nay; we killed it together, Gaspard," protested the boy. " Did not you wound it many times with your knife? But are you hurt? " he added, his face full of concern, for Gaspard truly presented an alarming appearance.

The clothing of his chest and arms hung in shreds, and

PRESSING THE WEAPON CLOSE TO THE SIDE OF THE WOLF several long deep scratches that were bleeding profusely showed upon his flesh. Smilingly Gaspard shook his head.

" Mere scratches. Master Gilbert. They do not matter since the wolf is dead."

"Is it the one that hath been troubling the peasants in the village, Gaspard? "

" The very same, I doubt not. It is of the size and description that those who have seen it relate, and from this lair it were an easy matter for it to descend to the village. And by killing it we have earned a hundred francs, for that is the bounty given for the head of a wolf that is slain."

" Then if you are sure it is the wolf, let us go at once to tell the people," cried Lafayette eagerly.

" Through the rain? " questioned Gaspard dubiously.

The boy laughed gleefully.

" Are we not already as wet as can be, good Gaspard? Then, too, it does not seem to be raining so hard now."

The severest part of the storm was indeed over. It was still raining, but it was no longer a downpour. The sky had become lighter while the mutterings of the thunder were becoming more and more distant. Gaspard glanced at the sky, and nodded approval. " You are right," he observed. " Wait for a moment only. Master Gilbert, and then we will start." With this he bent over the wolf, and carefully severed the head from the body. Then over the slippery ground the two made their way back to the horses, and mounting rode slowly down the mountainside.

By the time they came into the valley the weather had become much better. The rain had ceased, and the sun was breaking through the clouds. Before them lay Chavaniac, a lovely little village of some fifty houses clustered about a bold promontory, upon which stood a large chateau in the midst of a background of hills and forest. From under its walls a boisterous rivulet bubbled, losing itself in the woods that lay beyond the town. Green meadows lay about the hamlet against which the foliage of the trees looked dark and heavy after the storm. The villagers came pouring out of their houses at Gaspard's shout:

" The wolf is slain, good people. Behold its head ! "

A cry of joy went up from the peasants as he held aloft the head of the animal. Gaspard's voice rang out again:

" The little lord killed it, my friends. With his own hands he fired the shot that sent it to its death."

*' The little lord? The little lord? " ran from lip to lip in wondering admiration. Then suddenly a ringing shout went up:

*' A Lafayette ! A Lafayette ! "

But the shrill, childish treble of the boy's voice brought them to respectful silence.

" I did not kill the wolf alone," he told them. " Gaspard fought hand to hand with it with his knife. See! his clothing is torn to shreds from its claws, and his flesh bleeds from his wounds. I fired the pistol while Gaspard held the wolf upon his breast, after he had wounded it many times. Yes; and Pons, the dog, did help us too."

" To whom then, my little Marquis, doth the bounty belong? " questioned the mayor of the town respectfully. " To Gaspard? "

But Gaspard held up his hands protestingly, shaking his head.

" To whom then shall it be given? " asked the mayor again. " To Pons, the dog, Master Gilbert?"

Young Lafayette laughed with the mayor at the suggestion. Then he pondered a moment.

" Give it to those whose sheep have been destroyed by the wolf," he said. " And to the bounty shall be added as many francs as may be needed to make good their losses. Is this satisfactory? "

The mayor's eyes misted. He bent and pressed his lips to the boy's hand.

" Spoken like a true Lafayette, my little lord," he murmured. " Always and always have the Lafayettes been mindful of their people's weal. It shall be given as you say, and untold good will it do them. The gabelle is due in three days. Without this it could not have been met."

And, as he repeated the lad's wish to the peasants, they fell upon their knees by the roadside with a grateful cry:

" Vive Lafayette ! Vive Lafayette ! "

With thoughtful brow the young marquis rode out of the village, and up the winding road to the chateau upon the promontory.

CHAPTER II As THE Twig is Bent

THERE was no more romantic spot in all France than the site of the Chateau de Chavaniac de Lafayette in the Province of Auvergne, a region famous for its magnificent mountain scenery. It was six miles from the ancient town of Brioude, and about one hundred and twenty leagues from Paris. It stood upon a rocky promontory amid an amphitheatre of mountains, commanding a splendid view of encircling summits.

According to tradition the manor of Chavaniac dated back !to the Fourteenth Century, but the castle toward which its young master and his attendant rode was not the original building. That had burned to the ground in 1701, sixty-five years before, but had been rebuilt as nearly like the former structure as possible. So that while the building was venerable in appearance, in reality it was not ancient. It was severe in aspect, but its wildly picturesque environment of mountain, forest and stream redeemed it from heaviness. The estate attached comprised an extensive and considerable property.

AS THE TWIG IS BENT

Under a great avenue of trees young Lafayette rode across the fine old park and through the courtyard to the principal fa9ade of the chateau which faced the northwest. As he drew rein a stately lady whose delicate beauty betokened the patrician came hastily out of the chateau to greet him.

" At last, my son," she cried. " I have been so uneasy, even though you were with Gaspard. Ma foi, what a storm it hath been! Are you drenched?"

" Yes ; we are wet through to the skin. Mother, but 'tis nothing. Naught of harm will come of it; it hath been so warm." The boy dismounted, and in the courtly fashion of the time took his mother's hand and kissed it. " But what think you, maman? We sought shelter from the storm in a cave, and lo! the wolf that hath so frightened the peasants was there before us, Gaspard and I killed it. See its head? "

" The wolf? " Julie, Comtesse de Lafayette, turned pale and drew her son to her quickly. " Say you that the wolf was there? What happened? Are you hurt?"

" Not in the least, Mother. Gaspard thrust me behind him as soon as the beast came from its lair, and himself fought it with his knife. But he is hurt. See how the wolf tore his clothing, and made those great scratches upon hfs chest and arms."

" Good Gaspard, you do in truth bleed," cried the comtesse with concern. " Come within the hall at once that your wounds may be washed and dressed."

** But first, my lady, listen to the rest of the tale, I pray you," exclaimed Gaspard. " 'Tis one that will make your heart beat and your eyes glow with pride of your son. Master

Gilbert did not relate the whole of it. Know then that as I held the wolf upon my chest unable to loosen the brute's hold upon me Master Gilbert crept to my side, and shot it."

" Gilbert shot it? " exclaimed the lady incredulously. *' Why, how could he? He knows not how to handle a weapon."

" But yes. Mother," interposed the boy, trying to conceal his pleasure at his mother's astonishment. " Desplaus taught me to use the pistol. I do quite well when I use both hands. I do indeed."

" Quite well," came from Gaspard, boisterously. " Quite well indeed! He doth excellently well, Madame. He shot the wolf. What man could do more? "

" Come! let us hear this from the beginning," said the mother laughing, but the glance that she bestowed upon her son showed full well that she was prepared to believe anything that might be told her of his prowess. " Let us go inside, and while you relate the matter, Gaspard, I will attend to your wounds."

" Nay, my lady," uttered the man protestingly as he followed the comtesse into the great hall of the chateau. " It is not fitting that such as you should wait upon an old dog like me. Let some of the women attend me."

" It will give me great pleasure, Gaspard," the Comtesse Julie reassured him with gentle courtesy. " Have you not endangered your life to guard my son? Do you not always watch over him with tenderest care? Suffer me then to wait upon you."

The old servitor answered only with a glance of adoration.

AS THE TWIG IS BENT

While his mother ministered to the faithful fellow Lafayette slipped away to be helped into dry clothing. Presently he reentered the hall accompanied by two ladies of aristocratic bearing. They were Madame de Chavaniac and Madame Du Motier, sisters of his father, and therefore his aunts.

" And what," queried Madame de Chavaniac when the story of the wolf had been told, " what became of the bounty? An hundred francs, is it not, that is paid for the head of every wolf that is slain? To which of you doth it belong? "

" Master Gilbert told the mayor to give it to those whose sheep had been killed by the wolf," Gaspard told her. " That were well enough, but he further said that he would give enough additional to fully recompense the peasants for their losses. Pestel the wretches will rob him of several hundred francs."

" Well, if he chooses to give them, what of it? " demanded Madame de Chavaniac sharply. She adored her small nephew. In truth, Gilbert Motier de Lafayette was idolized by his mother and aunts. " Shall not the child do what he wishes with his own? He is a true Lafayette."

" Ay! there's the rub," grumbled the man. " A Lafayette, and therefore they take advantage of his soft heart and generosity. Did not old Georges waylay him in the park last week to tell him of the death of his cow, well knowing that if he heard the tale the young master would give him another? And did not Moriot run to him when his cottage burned for the wherewithal to build a new one? And so it goes. Pardieu! the boy will be beggared if he keeps it up. And there is Paris and the Court to come. Places where a young man needs much money if he is to stand well. He must not be bereft of future pleasures for the sake of such wretches."

" True," admitted Madame de Chavaniac reflectively. " There is something in what you say, Caspar d. Perchance the lad is too generous with the peasants."

" Nay," interposed the Comtesse de Lafayette gently. " I would not have him otherwise. As you observed, sister, he is a true Lafayette, and when did a Lafayette ever turn a deaf ear to the needs of his people? The Lafayettes have always been distinguished for justice and kindness to the peasants of their estates. Gilbert but follows the traditions of his race. But fear not, Gaspard. He will have plenty when he is old enough to go to Court. Should his patrimony fail there is still my own estate, and that of my father.'* The Comtesse Julie spoke with assurance, for she was an heiress in her own right to great wealth.

At this moment Lafayette, who had been a silent listener to the foregoing conversation, spoke;

" I shall not go to Court," he announced with grave decision. " I shall be a soldier as my father was, and I shall try to do great deeds."

" A soldier such as your father was," laughed Madame de Chavaniac. " And as his father, and his, and his, so on as far back as the family is known. The Lafayettes have always been soldiers, preferring the life of the camp to one of ease at Court. He is a true Lafayette indeed."

" Julie," exclaimed Madame Du Motier, the younger of the two sisters, " do you remember that to-day is the thirteenth of the month?"

AS THE TWIG 13 BENT

" Yes, Madelaine. I have been thinking of it all day." An expression of melancholy settled upon the comtesse's face, and she pressed her son's hand tightly.

" Is not that the day that my father fell in battle, Mother? "

" Yes, Gilbert," she answered sadly.

" It would give me great happiness to hear the story again. I like to talk of my father."

At this Gaspard rose and quietly left the hall. The ladies drew their chairs close together, and with one accord turned their glances toward the portrait of a handsome young man that hung upon the opposite wall. Gilbert drew up a stool by his mother's side, and sank into it with a sigh of content. He never tired of hearing of glorious deeds.

*' Now begin, Mother," he commanded.

The lady mused a moment, and then began to speak in a low voice:

" Your father was very handsome, Gilbert; very handsome, very gallant, very brave. Although he was but twenty-four he had already distinguished himself, and was a Colonel of the Grenadiers of France, and a Chevalier of Saint Louis.

"After our marriage we lived very quietly here at the chateau, in a happiness that was all too brief; for war had broken out again between us and our old enemy, England, who had leagued against us with Frederick the Great of Prussia. One day a courier came in haste to tell your father that he must rejoin his troops at once. France had need of him, and by a Lafayette the call of country is never disregarded. It was a sad parting, for I feared that I should never see him again, and then he rode away. He never came back."

[ 27 1

For a moment she paused, and then controlling her emotion continued:

" He fell at Minden, which is in Westphalia, Germany, on the thirteenth of July, 1757. Never forget that date, Gilbert. He fell gloriously, nobly, fighting for France. It was the death that he would have chosen; for there is no greater one than to die for one's country. But ah me! though I love France, there are times when it seems that our country demanded too much when she took him. I miss him so." Her voice broke.

The boy stooped quickly and kissed her hand.

" But you have me, chere maman," he comforted her.

" Yes, my child. And I laiow not what I would have done without you. I was prostrated when the news was brought to me of his death, and could not have survived had it not been for your coming. Never shall I forget the joy that the sixth day of September, 1757, brought to my sad heart, for upon that day you were born."